


I Met A Girl Who Sang The Blues

by her_imperius_condessy



Series: Peter and Sophie Adventures [1]
Category: The Monkees (TV)
Genre: F/M, First completed chaptered work, Gen, I wrote this years ago, some mentions of past abuse, very light violence, very very light sexual situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 15:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/her_imperius_condessy/pseuds/her_imperius_condessy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story was written and completed long, long ago on a Monkees communitee on LJ. I decided to move all my stuff here, and so here we are.</p><p>This is the story of how two young ladies move into a house near the Monkees pad, and how realationships develope forthwith. </p><p>Please keep in mind, it was the first multi-chap I ever wrote, and am somewhat fond of it, despite it's obvious...Shortcomings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Chapter One: In Which We Meet Sophie and Myrtle, and The Fun Begins.

November came to California in a torrent of rain that was to last for a whole week. To the people involved in our story, this rainy week would prove to be one of the most memorable weeks in their lives.

Peter Tork was stretched out on the couch; his hair still damp from where he had ran out on the beach. He loved to look at the ocean when it was stormy. The waves churning and crashing, almost in a primal and vicious way. The others thought he was crazy.

Two of the others in question were sitting at the table, attempting to play a game of Rummy despite that one of them (the taller one, Micky Dolenz by name) thought they were playing Gin. The other, Davy Jones, laid his cards down on the table.

“Rummy,” he sighed, glaring out the window as he said it.

“What ‘Rummy’?”

“What what Rummy?”

“This isn’t Gin?”

“Micky, you don’t know how to play Gin.”

Micky sighed and laid his head down on the table. “That’s what I thought, too.”

Davy got up from the table and was rummaging through the kitchen when the sound of footsteps could be heard coming down the metal staircase. This was Mike Nesmith, who had gone upstairs, presumably to work on the finances that he kept up with in a small green notebook. He usually worked downstairs, but he needed quiet to work and Micky and Davy had been complaining loudly about Peter getting them wet when he came in.

“Well, fellas, I reckon we’ll be doing okay for Thanksgiving, providing we don’t have any emergencies like last year.”

Micky looked around sheepishly. Last year, just before Thanksgiving, he had exploded a chemistry set, landing himself and Peter in the hospital for three days.

“No worries, Micky!” Peter called out, still stretched out on the couch.

Micky just grinned in an embarrassed way.

“Well, anyway, I think we’ll have enough for a pretty decent dinner.”

“You’re not going to cook it, are you Mike?” Davy asked concernedly, and with good reason. Mike had been the primary origin of several small oven fires over the years.

“Actually, I thought it would be cool if we all made something…”

Micky’s hand shot up. “Macaroni!”

Peter soon followed. “Fudge!”

Davy just shrugged. “I guess I could make a pudding…”

“So, for our Thanksgiving dinner, we’ll be having burnt macaroni, half-done fudge, some weird English pudding stuff, and whatever I can conceivably cook without burning down the house.”

Micky shrugged. “Maybe we should go out and eat?”

“Aw, come on man! Thanksgiving should be spent at home with your family and friends, not in a diner with a bunch of strangers….”

It was at this moment that a knock came at the door. Peter, who was closest, finally managed to pull himself off the couch and over to the door. When he swung the door open, it was to see two young women standing outside, both dripping wet with coats held up over their heads.

“Oh thank God! This is the third door we’ve knocked on. Can we come in for a moment, and wait for the rain to slack up?”

The girl who spoke was tall with black hair. Her eyes were a magnificent shade of brown that reminded Peter immediately of milk chocolate. Her eyes also looked angry, as if being caught out in the rain didn’t suit her. The other girl was shorter, with bright red hair and blue eyes and loads of freckles. She didn’t look nearly as put out as the other.

“S-sure. Come in.” Peter stood out of the way as the girls walked in.

“Thank you,” said the first girl again. “We’ve just moved in to the apartment next door, and we accidentally locked ourselves out when it started to rain.” She paused for a moment to look Peter over. “You look like you got caught yourself.”

“No, he went out on his own insanity.” Mike had walked over. “Hi, I’m Mike. This is Peter. That’s Micky and that’s Davy.”

“Um, I’m Myrtle Bowers, and this is Sophie Monroe.” The red-headed girl spoke this time. She had a quieter voice and it faltered a bit, and she looked at the floor when she spoke.

“Well, come in, sit down. Would you like any coffee or tea or…”

“Davy, we don’t have any coffee or tea.”

“We have hot chocolate….”

This whole conversation was between Mike, Micky, and Davy. Peter had sat back down on the staircase, trying not to stare at Sophie. She was the loveliest thing he had ever seen. She had taken off the coat, and he could see her whole figure. She was standing straight now, too, and Peter could see she was taller than he thought, at least as tall as he was. She was slender, but not like in a model way. She had a full figure, curves and all, her wet clothes clinging in places that made Peter’s imagination go haywire.

“Pete?”

Peter’s head shot up. Everyone was looking at him. He fervently hoped no one had realized where his eyes had been.

“Huh?”

“Do you know if we have any pretzels?”

“No, we don’t. We ate them all at the last party.”

“That’s alright guys. We’re really not hungry.” Sophie addressed this to Peter, who she smiled at. ‘She has the loveliest smile,’ Peter thought as she went to sit on the sofa in between Myrtle and Mike. Myrtle was reaching over to the phone to call the landlord so they could get into their apartment as soon as the monsoon stopped.  
Small talk proceeded throughout the evening, and Peter was eventually able to sit on the sofa with Sophie after Mike got up to run to the kitchen. Conversation eventually got around to where the girls were working.

“I work at that bookstore a few blocks away,” Myrtle announced, considerably more talkative after an hour, and was currently at the table teaching Micky how to play Gin.

“And Sophie sings at that club, The Whatcha-Ma-Callit.”

“The Gas Lamp, Myrtle.”

“That’s an awfully seedy place,” Mike said, perching on the armrest of the couch.

“I haven’t had any problems yet,” Sophie leaned forward to knock on the wooden table, and then went on. “It’s usually a pretty quiet crowd when I’m there.”

“When are you there?”

“Thursday nights. Customer Request Night.”

“We’ve played there before, too, but the crowd wasn’t very kind to us,” Davy called out from his seat on the staircase.

“You’re a group?”

“Yeah, the four of us. We’re the Monkees.”

Sophie raised her eyebrows interestingly at that. “Really? Do you get a lot of gigs?”

Mike shrugged. “Some. But they tend to be few and far between.”  
 

Sophie nodded. “I assume you’re a rock n’ roll band.”

Four yeses came at her from various directions.

“Do you like rock n’ roll, Sophie?” Peter was hesitant to ask, and Davy got to the question first.

“Yeah, I was just wondering how many rock groups feature banjos.” She pointed towards the corner of the room, where all their gear had been packed up, out of the way so they could take it to an audition the next day. Peter had left the banjo out because he was working on a melody and he wasn’t keen on taking it to the audition anyway.

“Oh, that’s Peter’s. Something he plays around with from time to time.” Again, another statement from Davy. Peter turned red as Sophie glanced around at him. Whatever she was about to say was quickly forgotten, however, because the rain slacked off.

“Gotta run, boys. We’ll see you around though!” And just like that, they were gone.

Micky and Davy began congratulating themselves on a triumphant victory at living in the right apartment at the right time. Mike just shook his head and went about his business as usual. It wasn’t too much longer until Peter went quietly to bed, still unable to shake the spell that Sophie had cast on him.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The adventures continue, only now with Truth or Dare and...Good Lord, what was I thinking when I wrote this?

Chapter Two: In Which A Game of Truth Or Dare Is Played, Peter’s Feelings Are Not Resolved, Mike Has A Moment Of Complete Abandon In A Closet, and Micky Is Fascinated By Freckles

Sophie and Myrtle showed up at the apartment again just a few days later. Mike was sitting at the kitchen table with his green notebook, trying to balance the figures. Davy was on the phone with a girl named Shelly who he was trying to invite over to the apartment. Micky and Peter were watching television, but with the sound turned down so not to disturb the others.

“Great, luv, I’ll see you in a few minutes. Bye.” Davy hung up the phone and came to sit on the couch with the others, but just as he sat down, a knock came at the door.

Davy whistled. “That was fast!”

But when he opened the door, it was none other than Sophie and Myrtle. To Peter’s generous relief, and a small bit of disappointment, they were in dry clothes today. They had also brought over some cookies that Myrtle had made, which were somewhat dubious. They were green and orange with white…somethings in them. Micky thought they were fantastic, but none of the others were particularly enthused to try them.

When Shelly showed up, it was decided that a game should be played. Years later, no one was able to remember whose idea the game was, although many suspect it was Sophie. In any case, before too long, all seven of them were seated on the floor in a circle, and Micky was going to go first at Truth or Dare.

“Myrtle, truth or dare?”

“Oh, er…truth.”

“What was in those divine cookies you made?”

Myrtle blushed before answering in a mock whisper, “Food coloring and marshmallows.”

“Mike, truth or dare?”

The game continued in this vein until after an hour, people were starting to become bored (and pained). Micky, who never said truth, was wearing one of Mike’s hats and every article of clothing he owned and was rapidly turning an appalling shade of red. Sophie was still hiccupping from the entire bottle of cola she had had to drink in thirty seconds and she could only speak in innuendos for the next twenty minutes. Davy was wearing what seemed to be an entire flower garden in his hair. Mike was over in the corner, having been dared to stand on his head for thirty minutes or until he passed out, whichever came first. Peter was the only Monkee to be untouched by dares. As of yet.

It was Myrtle’s turn again. “Peter, truth or dare?”

Peter glanced around at his bandmates, who all glared at him. Apparently, the sight of Peter sitting there normally clothed, flowerless, and with his blood circulating normally made them all angry. Peter sighed, “Dare.”

Myrtle seemed to be thinking, when Sophie leaned over to her and whispered something. “What? Is that an innuendo for something I don’t get?”

Sophie laughed shook her head and whispered something else. Myrtle gasped. “No!”

“What?” Shelly had, over the course of trying to humiliate the boys as much as possible, become good friends with Myrtle and Sophie. Sophie whispered something at her, too. Shelly eyed Peter up and down. “Go for it, Myrtle!”

Myrtle groaned and buried her face in her hands. “Peter, we dare you to run outside and jump in the ocean.”

Peter felt a brief sense of relief. “Okay.”

But as he made to stand up, Shelly giggled a bit and said, “You have to leave your clothes out on the deck, though!”

There was a small commotion as Mike fell off his head and crashed into the table. “What!? No way! I am not going out there…”

Myrtle raised her hands defensively and pointed at Sophie.

“Oh, come on Peter. Seven grownups sitting around playing truth or dare and no one is naked yet? We can’t have it. This is the last dare of the night, so this is the way it has to be.”

Myrtle looked at her roommate curiously. “There were no innuendos in that monologue.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Enough with the innuendos, Myrt. They’re hard-going.”

Groans could be heard all over the room. Peter continued to shake his head. “No, no way…”

Micky rolled his eyes. “Just do it, Peter, get it over with.”

Peter groaned and started towards the door to the balcony, but then turned around. “Can I at least wait until I get down to the beach to undress?”

It was Sophie who answered, everyone else was on their way up the stairs so they could watch from Peter and Mike’s room. “Sure, why not,” she called over her shoulder, and then winked at him.

Peter shook his head one more time, but then started out the door. As he came out on the beach, he heard a loud whoop behind him. He turned to look, and it seemed that everyone had climbed out on the roof. Davy was trying to cover Shelly’s mouth. It was starting to occur to them all that Micky had put something dubious in that ‘suicide potion’ he had concocted for her to drink.

Peter crouched in the shadow of the deck while he took off his clothes. The idea came upon him that his friends were too far away on the roof to see anything in too great detail. Maybe this wasn’t such an embarrassing moment.

Still hunched a bit in the comforting shadow, Peter looked up and down the beach to make sure no one else was out. Why anyone else would be out on the beach in the drizzling rain was beyond Peter, but he wanted to check.

He took a deep breath and sprinted faster than he thought he could run towards the ocean and dove in very ungracefully. Peter surfaced and snorted water out his nose and spluttered a bit. He could just barely hear his friends on the roof cheering, Shelly was exceptionally vocal. After a few seconds, he heard Sophie. “All right, Pete, you can come back in now!”

Peter waited in the water until his friends had started back in off the roof, Mike and Micky helping a now hysterical Shelly. He could also just hear the distant sounds of Myrtle and Sophie arguing about the definition of ‘innuendo’.

As Peter raced back to the welcome shadow, he realized he hadn’t brought a towel out with him, but someone had already laid one out for him.

****

Peter came back inside in time to observe the latest high jinx; Sophie had snatched up Mike’s guitar and Micky was on his drum kit and they were doing what sounded like an atrocious duet version of ‘Why Don’t We Do It In The Road’. Davy and Shelly were sitting at the table, Davy trying to get her to drink coffee and Shelly giggling and trying to kiss ‘his little nosy’.

It wasn’t too much longer until Davy left to drive Shelly home and he glared at Micky as he left.

“Now what are we going to do?” Mike was stretched out on the staircase, looking for all the world like a very large cat.

This detail has also been lost to the years, but it is generally agreed on that it was yet again Sophie who came up with Seven Minutes in the Closet.

 

It was Micky and Myrtle in first. They had the light turned on in the closet, Myrtle was perched on an old box, and Micky was on a suitcase. Neither had said very much, never mind done anything that time in the closet was supposed to be spent doing. No, they were too busy checking each other out.

Micky was quite fascinated by Myrtle. He wasn’t much for shy girls, but Myrtle was really an exception. She had been shy at first, but Micky had been reliving that half hour spent at the kitchen table, with Myrtle teaching him Gin. She wasn’t talkative, but she asked questions. Micky imagined that she had learned more about his life in those thirty minutes than his roommates had learned in months.

Myrtle had wrapped her arms around her knees, and was scrunched up on the box. Micky was observing the freckles going up her arms, never fading until they reached her chest, then they began to fade beneath the neckline of her shirt. For some reason, this fascinated him.

“Your freckles fascinate me.” Micky gasped. He hadn’t realized he had spoken out loud.

Myrtle started to laugh. ‘She really has a wonderful laugh,’ Micky thought, this time keeping his mouth shut. Myrtle glanced around, as if she had forgotten that they were alone in a closet, then stretched out her hand and put the tip of one finger on the end of Micky’s nose.

“You fascinate me.”

Micky took her hand and kissed the back of it. They both began to lean towards each other when Sophie banged on the door and started yelling “TIME! TIME! TIME!”

****

Next in the closet was Mike and Sophie. This time it was Sophie on the suitcase and Mike on the box. Like the couple before them, not much was said, but Sophie was watching Mike. His shoulders were sort of hunched, and he stared at the closet floor as if he were in a deep thought.

“Hey, Mike?”

His head snapped up. “Huh?”

Sophie snorted lightly. “Got something on your mind?”

“Oh, naw, not really. I was just thinking about Thanksgiving….”

“You’re stuck in a closet with a girl for seven minutes and you think about Thanksgiving?”

Mike turned a light shade of red, but grinned ruefully. “Sorry, but it’s a big deal to me.”

Sophie nodded, then tilted her head to look at him. “The weight of the world.”

Mike looked confused. “The way you’re sitting.” Sophie began to sketch in the blank area behind Mike with her finger. “The weight of the world on your shoulders and no where to go. Sometimes the best cure for it is a bit of reckl-urmphfh….”

Sophie was unable to finish her sentence because Mike had quite abruptly leaned over the space between them and pinned Sophie to the wall behind her. The kisses were exactly what they were supposed to be; a frenzied, hot thing with no mind to speak of. Mike had too long been the one who kept caution well away from the wind and he was tired of thinking so much.

At some point, the pair slid off the wall and were now lying somewhat uncomfortably amongst the shoes and peppermints fallen from coat pockets that littered the floor. Sophie had long since taken Mike’s hat off and thrown it elsewhere. Her hands dragged through his thick silky hair, and she gently scraped her fingernails across the back of his neck. Mike moaned gently into her mouth, and then broke away from the kiss. They both pushed themselves up. Mike looked around at the floor.

“Look, I shouldn’t have launched myself at you like that…”

Sophie laughed. “No worries, Mike. If I hadn’t wanted you to do it I could’ve stopped you.”

“Oh, really?” Mike quirked an eyebrow at her and Sophie laughed again.

“Find your hat, Nesmith, it’s just about….”

Right then, Micky began banging on the door, hollering, “TIME! TIME! TIME!”

****

Finally, it was Sophie and Peter in the closet. Peter was fidgeting with a string of beads he had found in the living room and determinedly looking anywhere but at Sophie. He knew that if he looked at Sophie he would stare, and staring wasn’t something that was easy to get away with in a closet.

Sophie, on the other hand, was staring. She could get away with it, of course, because Peter was looking nowhere near her. Sophie was rather fascinated by Peter. She had seen a lot of things in her relatively short life and Peter’s innocence was precious to her. She felt comfortable around Peter, as if she could be completely honest with him without fear. Speaking of being completely honest…

“I didn’t look.”

Peter finally looked up from the floor at her. “You didn’t look at what?”

“When you ran across the beach….I didn’t look.”

He looked a bit surprised. “Why not?”

Sophie shrugged. “I don’t know…It just didn’t feel right.” She was looking at the floor now, trying to hide the flush spreading across her cheeks. By all means, Sophie was anything but shy or a prude, but when she was with Peter, she forgot about everything she had ever done in the past. To put it bluntly, he made her feel like a virgin again.

Since Sophie was looking fixedly at the floor, she didn’t see Peter duck his head down, too. And since Micky began banging on the door, yelling “TIME! TIME! TIME!!”, she didn’t hear Peter’s whispered response…

“I wouldn’t have minded if you had.”


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When orignally posted, I put this up in two parts, and it kinda jumps around.

Chapter Three: In Which Mike Nearly Has A Run In With Sophie (Literally), Micky Visits A Bookstore Undercover, Peter Spends His Afternoon On The Roof, And Davy Unwittingly Does More Good Than Harm (In That Order)

Mike was supposed to be going to the grocery store. He was supposed to be buying a turkey (which nobody could cook). He was supposed to be finding gigs so the band could have money to buy food, water, electricity, to pay off the car, make rent….

Mike wasn’t supposed to be hitting his head on the steering wheel, but he was. Luckily, he was still parked outside. Had he been driving he may very well have had to add car repairs to his long, painful list. While Mike was still hitting his head, he heard an abrupt knock on his window. He jumped, but when he looked it was just Sophie.

It had been a few days since the night of party games, and the girls hadn’t been over at all. Myrtle was working afternoons four days a week, and the nights she hadn’t worked had been spent with Micky out on dates. Sophie also worked four nights a week. They knew one night was spent at the club down the road, but Sophie had never said where the other job was.

Mike rolled down the window and Sophie leaned in to talk with him. “Where you headed, Nesmith? Care to give a lady a lift?”

“That all depends.”  
  
“Depends on what?”

“Well, I don’t see a lady anywhere, for one…”

Sophie laughed and lightly hit him with what she was holding in her hand. Mike looked closely at it and saw it was an apron. A closer look at Sophie herself reveled that she was wearing a Denny’s uniform.

“You’re working at Denny’s now?”

“Well, Nesmith, I once knew an old woman who told me ‘Girly, you can sing real pretty, and you can play that guitar good but it’ll never earn you any money.’ I’ll be damned, but she was right.”

Mike laughed. “Do you need a ride?”

“Um…I don’t have to be there for another half hour.” She looked suddenly serious. “You aren’t in a hurry to get anywhere are you?”

Mike shrugged. “No, why?”

“Hop in the back seat,” and with no further ado, Sophie opened the back door and sat down. When Mike didn’t move, she leaned forward and tugged on a lock of hair just behind his ear.

“Oh come on, Nesmith, don’t be a spoilsport….”

Mike sighed, banged his head on the steering wheel one more time for good measure, and then began to climb to the back seat of the car. Sophie helped him by tugging on the belt loop on the back of his pants. As a result, Mike landed rather awkwardly in the seat next to Sophie.

He turned around and looked at her. “Hi.”

Sophie laughed. “Hi, Nesmith.” She leaned over and kissed him, then pulled him down so that he was lying on top of her on the seat. Twenty minutes later found them in much the same position, although Mike had once again lost his hat, and Sophie had undone the first few buttons of his shirt and was currently kissing his neck. She caught a look at her watch.

“Damn…I need to get going. I have to be there in ten minutes.”

Mike kissed her just beside her ear. “You know what we could do in ten minutes?”

They both froze. Mike was by no means innocent, although he hadn’t been involved with anyone in what seemed to be a long while. But still, he had never propositioned a girl who he had barely known for a week. And Sophie knew that even though she liked Mike, she would never see him as more than a friend. She had to draw a line somewhere as to what she would or wouldn’t do with her friends.

Sophie gently pushed Mike off of her and they both sat up. She looked at her knees rather than at Mike. “Yes, we could do that, but I don’t think we will.”

Mike made a few fumbling gestures with his hands, as if he were trying to say something with them. “I…Look…I’m sorry…”

Sophie snorted lightly. “Nesmith, you don’t have to apologize for everything you say or do during our little meetings.”

Mike smiled at her. “Yes, ma’am.”

Sophie raised her eyebrows at that, but didn’t say anything.

“You still want a ride to work?”

Sophie sighed and nodded resignedly, and they both climbed back into the front seat.

“So, where were you headed when I stalled you?” Sophie asked as Mike started the car.

“Oh, grocery shopping and a bit of job hunting. I need to buy a turkey, but I don’t know who will cook it, and some more stuff for Thanksgiving…”

“I can cook a turkey.”

Mike nearly rammed the car in front of them. “You can?”

“One, yes. And two, watch where you drive this thing.”

“Sorry.”

“Anyway, yeah, I can cook a turkey. Myrtle and I were just planning on going out to eat, but she’s been hinting at wanting to do Thanksgiving with Micky at your place. I might as well cook a turkey.”

“That’s awesome! I’ll buy, you cook, and we can all have Thanksgiving together!”

Sophie just shrugged, but didn’t say anything, as they were pulling up to Denny’s. Before she climbed out of the car, Sophie leaned over and kissed Mike on the cheek.

“See you around, Nesmith.” And she disappeared into the diner. Mike sighed and drove off, finally unstressed about the looming holiday.

****

Micky was undercover. He sat at the back of the bookstore, carefully in disguise. He wore a long over coat, a fedora, he had a scarf wrapped around his face, and he was ‘reading’ a book. Unfortunately, he was unaware that the book was upside down.

He had been undercover for about two hours, all of it spent watching Myrtle. She had been shelving books on a high shelve, and had spent most of the two hours on a ladder. Micky had been enjoying his time.

He couldn’t get enough of her. They had only been on a few dates, but to Micky they had been the best dates he could ever remember being on. He had never been hooked on a chick like this, and if he hadn’t only known Myrtle for a week, Micky would’ve sworn he was in love.

Right now, he was watching her shelve. She wasn’t wearing a very short skirt, but when she reached up to put the book down, her skirt went up just enough to show a fair bit of leg. The freckles that had fascinated Micky that night in the closet climbed up her legs, too, becoming less concentrated as they went higher. Micky wanted to know if there was anyplace on her not covered in freckles. He also began to think that the small bookshop was not the best place for those sort of wonderings.

Quite abruptly, Myrtle turned around on the ladder and looked directly at him. She must have felt him staring at her. Micky panicked and lifted the book to hide his face. ‘Maybe she didn’t recognize me,’ he thought hurriedly. He began to calm down as a few moments went past. Then, he heard a cough from beside him.

“Hello, sir. Are you finding everything okay?” It was Myrtle. She had a politely curious look on her face. She obviously didn’t recognize Micky.

He nodded, but didn’t speak. “Perhaps you could find some more titles in our storeroom.”

Micky shook his head, and Myrtle rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on Micky,” she hissed, and pulled him up under his arm. She led him through a door close by into what could only be the store’s storeroom, and then stepped away from him.

“Why are you watching me, Micky?” Myrtle had her arms crossed, but she didn’t look angry; she looked more curious than angry.

“Oh, umm…you noticed me, then?”

Myrtle had a look of absolute incredulousness on her face, just before she dissolved into peals of laughter. “Noticed you? You were reading ‘War and Peace’ upside down and I can see half of your face.” Micky instinctively pulled the scarf up on his face, but Myrtle tsked and pulled it off of him.

“Why were you watching me?” This time the question was asked with a hint of amusement, as she lightly hit Micky with the scarf.

He looked at the floor and kicked at an unseen rock before answering. “Well….I don’t know. I suppose I like you a lot, and I’ve really enjoyed going out with you. I just wanted to see you again. It’s been a drag at the apartment today…”

Myrtle laughed again, this time a little more shyly. “I like you a lot, too. How ‘bout this…come back at eight when the store closes and we’ll go out for coffee.”

Micky nodded. “Sure. I can do that.” He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “I’ll see you at eight, then.” He went to open the door of the storeroom, but then turned back.

“Hey, what’re you doing for Thanksgiving?”

Myrtle shook her head. “Sophie and I were just going out.”

“Would you like to come over to our place? I can’t promise turkey or anything, but…”

Myrtle cut him off. “Yes, I would love to come over.”

Micky grinned. “I’ll let Mike know, then. See you at eight.” He kissed her once more, this time solidly on the lips and then left the closet, leaving behind a very happy Myrtle.

Peter was sitting on the roof of the apartment. He didn’t usually sit up on the roof, and he only did it if he needed a quiet place to think. The apartment was currently far too hectic to think; Micheal was getting together a grocery list, Davy was dissecting the downstairs bedroom that he shared with Micky, trying to find a lucky necklace that he had lost and needed for a date, and Micky was trying to pick a good disguise so he could spy on someone, although he didn’t say who.

Peter had sought refuge on the roof, his mind calmed by the gentle sound of the waves, the scattered chatter of kids on the beach trying to convince their parents that a few sprinkles of rain were no reason to go home, and the occasional car honk from the road behind him. The ocean was beginning to look choppy and grey and Peter knew that a storm would be in by that evening. He made a mental note to remind Micheal not to leave the car hood down tonight. He had a bad habit of not noticing the weather and was the worst of the four for leaving car windows down during a rainstorm.

Peter looked away from the ocean and looked up and down the beach. Much to his surprise, he soon saw the reason for his need to sit on the roof and think. Sophie was walking down the beach, wearing a Denny’s uniform and swinging her shoes in one hand by the laces. She was carefully avoiding getting wet sand on her feet, and was obviously on her way to work. Peter pulled his knees up to his chest and continued to watch her, hoping she didn’t glance up to find him staring.

Of course, as soon as he thought this, Sophie turned right around and looked at the apartment that Peter was perched atop of. He ducked his head down instinctively, hoping against hope that Sophie hadn’t seen him.

She waved. Peter tried to wave back, but he suspected that it looked more like he had randomly jerked his arm around. Sophie looked around and then disappeared into the space between two of the buildings. Peter wondered where she had gone, but was also glad; he couldn’t think coherently while watching her walk around on the beach.

He was surprised, then, when he heard a scrambling sound near the edge of the roof and Sophie’s head popped up.

“Hi, Pete.”

Peter was speechless. Sophie had finished pulling herself up on the roof. She had put her shoes back on, and even though she had just climbed up the side of a building, she wasn’t out of breath at all.

“It’s a nice view you guy’s have from up here.”  
  
“Are you crazy?”

Peter nearly slapped his hand over his mouth as the question came out. Sometimes he didn’t have the greatest control over his mouth in situations like this, when he was on a roof with a beautiful girl that he liked very much…oh dear Lord…

But Sophie just laughed and glanced over the edge. “I’ve climbed higher drainpipes before, I think.” She sat down next to Peter, tactfully ignoring the bright red color his face had turned.

They sat in silence for awhile, Sophie occasionally batting away raindrops after they had landed on her, and Peter trying again not to stare. He was also trying to think of something to say, something to engage her with, some fascinating tidbit of information that would make her want to stay on the roof with him for a little while longer. He kept drawing blanks. Sophie spoke first.

“I’m glad about Myrtle and Micky.”

Peter nodded a bit too enthusiastically. “Oh, yeah. It’s great.”

“Micky seems like an alright guy…”

Peter continued nodding. “Oh, yeah, he’s great.”

Sophie nodded with him and the two were silent again for awhile. This time, Peter broke the silence.

“Were you on your way to work?”

She looked down at her uniform in distaste. “Yeah, I still have another forty-five minutes to be there, though.”

“Do you not like it?”

Sophie sighed. “No, not really, but it’s necessary. The club doesn’t pay me enough to make it on only one night a week, but I’ll be getting three nights when the manager gets rid of one of the other bands that play there.”

Peter nodded a bit more and they fell into silence again. He chanced a glance over at Sophie. She was sitting the same way he was, with her knees pulled up to her chest, and she was looking over the ocean and glaring at the clouds.

Peter chanced a question. “Y-you don’t like rain much, do you?”

Sophie shook her head. “I like rain fine. It’s just that I prefer to be inside, with a book on my couch when it rains. Not stuck in some dreary old diner with dreary old people.” She glared at the clouds again, and then she looked over at Peter.

“You like the rain, though, don’t you? You had been running out in it the night we…the night we all met.” She sounded like she was going to say something else, but she had changed her mind mid-sentence.

It was Peter’s turn to shrug, surprised for a moment that she remembered. “Yeah. I’d been out in the rain. Micheal tells me not to or I’ll get a cold, but it hasn’t happened yet.”

Sophie laughed. “Mike’s an old mother hen, isn’t he?”

Peter was able to give Sophie a real smile this time. “Oh, yes, all the time!”

Sophie laughed again, quite pleased that she had gotten Peter to smile for her. She looked at her watch and sighed. “Well, Pete, I guess I need to go…”

“Do you want to go through the window this time?”

“Yeah, that might be a good idea.” Peter had already stood up and held his hand out to help Sophie up. She took it.

“Good, ‘cause you make me nervous…” Peter had helped Sophie stand up, but the thing he hadn’t counted on was being eye to eye with her when she was up. He kept forgetting how tall she was, and, seeing as he had been avoiding looking at Sophie, Peter had forgotten the beautiful color brown her eyes were. “…c-c-climbing up buildings and s-stuff.”

“I won’t do it again,” Sophie said, unable to look away. She hadn’t been this close to him since the few minutes in the cramped closet, and she knew he was thinking the same. For a brief second, she thought Peter might kiss her, but he quite abruptly dropped her hand and walked toward the edge of the roof, muttering ‘window’.

Peter slipped inside the bedroom first and then Sophie followed and he walked her to the door. All the others had already left, meaning that Peter would have some time alone to think. When Peter opened the door for Sophie, he noticed that the car was still there.

“Oh, that’s lucky. Maybe Micheal can drive you to work.”

Sophie nodded distractedly. “Thank you, Peter.”

“For what?”

She shrugged. “For being good company. I’ll see you later.” And with that, she closed the door behind her and was gone. Peter went into the kitchen, luckily not observing any of the goings on that occurred earlier in this chapter.

****

Davy liked going on dates. He liked the adventure of meeting someone new and exciting, the thrill of uncovering the mystery of girls. It was all very fun for him. But, of course, there were the bad ones.

He had met Jolene a week before. She was working at the candy counter in the shopping center where he and Micky had gone to do early Christmas shopping. She had seemed so sweet and nice then, with her long blonde hair pulled back in a braid and her eyes sparkling every time she looked at him. But now…she was awful.

Jolene was very ill tempered and seemed to like to complain about everything. And she had a loud, carrying voice that Davy hadn’t noticed earlier. He immediately regretted taking her to the movies, where she made a very rude remark about a lady’s shirt who was sitting three rows in front of them. Davy’s cheek still hurt a bit from where the woman had slapped him. She had slapped him because when the woman looked back to see who made the comment, Jolene had pointed at Davy.

Ever an optimist, he had persevered with the date up to this point, where he had taken Jolene to Denny’s for coffee and ice cream. She had gone to the restroom, but hadn’t come back yet and Davy was enjoying the break. When he felt a tap on his shoulder he groaned inwardly, thinking it was Jolene saying she wanted to go somewhere else, but when he looked up it was Sophie.

“Oh, hello Sophie!”

“Hi! Afraid I was someone else?”

Davy grimaced. “Bad date.”

“Medium height, blonde, loud?”

“That’s the one.”

“Yeah, she left five minutes ago with a man named Hank.”

“Hank?!”

“Well, I call him Hank. He’s always in here, but I’ve never asked his name.”

Davy sighed. “I can’t say I’m not relieved…”

Sophie laughed. “Are you going to stay? I’ll bring you some coffee.”

“Yeah, thanks luv.” Sophie walked off to the kitchen area, but before she came back another waitress came by.

“Hello. My name’s Julie….”

“Hi, Julie. I’m Davy…”

By the time Sophie got back, Davy had Julie’s phone number and a date for the next evening. As Julie walked off, she gave Sophie a wink that Davy caught.

“You set that up, didn’t you?”

Sophie looked innocent. “Set what up?”

“Julie?”

“Oh, she’s a nice girl, you should ask her out sometime…”

“You aren’t fooling me!”

Sophie lost the innocent look. “Fine. She saw you come in and was asking me about you. I told her to come over and say hi. The horror!”

Davy laughed. “I guess you’re forgiven.”

“I’m about to go on break, is it alright if I join you?” She had adopted Davy’s accent.

“Be my guest.”

A few minutes later, Sophie came back out with a plate of food and sat down across from Davy. “Thanks for this; I usually eat out next to the dumpsters…”

“They make you eat next to the dumpsters?”

“That’s our ‘break area’.”

“Oh…”

They sat in silence while Sophie ate and Davy occasionally winked at Julie when he got the chance.

“Mike’s invited me and Myrtle over for Thanksgiving,” Sophie mentioned in between bites of food.

“Oh, excellent.”

“I’ve been conned into cooking a turkey…”

Davy snorted. “I’ll bet Mike is thrilled.”

Sophie nodded a bit distractedly and looked out on the rain-streamed windows. “What else should I bring? Besides the turkey?”

“I don’t know. This Thanksgiving deal is still new to me.”

Sophie shook her head. “Oh…of course.”

“I already know were going to have macaroni, fudge, and a pudding, so if there is anything else you think we may need…”

Sophie snorted lightly, pulled a pen out from behind her ear and began to make a list on the back of an order ticket.

Davy watched her writing. She had pulled her hair back in a ponytail, but a strand had fallen out and was swinging a bit from the movement of her writing. Her eyes moved rapidly as she reread what she had just wrote. She bit her bottom lip while she was thinking. Davy knew he would be an idiot not to think she was beautiful, and even though she was considerably taller than him, Davy thought he might as well ask her out. After all, they got along alright…

“Say, Sophie?”

“Hum…” She didn’t even raise her eyes from her paper, but her eyebrows shot up.

“Do you think you might want to go out sometime?”

That got her attention. Sophie looked up from the paper so fast it was almost comical.

“What? No, I don’t.”

Davy was taken aback, and it must have shone on his face.

“Oh, no, Davy I’m sorry. It’s just…I like you and all, but….Well, for one thing, didn’t you just ask out Julie?” They both looked over at the other side of the diner and Julie and Davy both winked at each other. Luckily, neither noticed Sophie rolling her eyes.

“And, for another…you just aren’t the one I like….” Sophie trailed off, distracted for a moment by the spelling of cobler…no, coobler…no cobller….cobbler?

Davy nodded. “It’s fine. Peter, am I right?”

Sophie pretended she didn’t know what he was talking about. “Peter what?”

“Peter is the one you like, right? I can tell; you’re blushing.”

Sophie didn’t dignify that with comment; she instead focused on the spelling of vegitable…vegtable…

“He likes you, too, you know. I can tell.”

Vegetable could wait. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah…”

“Because he seems really odd whenever I’m around….”

“That’s normal for him. He’s very shy. But if you’ll give him time, he will come around. It just takes him awhile to warm up to girls he likes.”

“Oh.”

“Peter’s like a butterfly; if you try to catch it, it’ll just fly off, but if you sit still it will light on your hand.”

Sophie laughed. “I’m not sure he would appreciate you calling him a butterfly.”

“I’ve called him worse, I’m afraid.” Davy looked at his watch. “I’d better get home. Mike worries if I’m out too late.”

“Bye, Davy. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”  
  
“What’s the day after tomorrow?”

Sophie waved her list at him.

“Ah, see you then.” Davy winked once more at Julie, and then slipped outside.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, some sexual situations herein, but it's pretty tame to a lot of the stuff you usually find. Still, I will warn y'all; sexy times ahead.

Chapter Four; In Which A Feast Is Enjoyed By All, And Many Thanks Are Given

Sophie hated cooking. She was, by nature, the anti-housewife and greatly disliked cooking, cleaning, or organizing of any sort. Luckily she had Myrtle to live with, who was extremely clean and knew how to get stains out of fabrics and such.

Why, then, she had agreed to cooking a turkey and other things for her neighbors, whom she had known for a little over a week was beyond her. As she slammed the oven door on the turkey slightly harder than was necessary, she inwardly blamed Peter Tork.

It was his fault she was cooking this damned turkey. Sophie had been searching for any excuse to spend more time with the young man who fascinated her so. And when Nesmith had mentioned not having a turkey for Thanksgiving, Sophie had leapt at the chance. Her grandmother had taught her years ago how to cook, and Sophie had been afraid that she may not remember how, but she found that it was just like riding a bike.

That didn’t change the fact, however, that Sophie hated to cook. To further vent, she slammed a pot down on the counter, not realizing Myrtle had entered the room and she jumped.

“I thought we had agreed you were going to use your words, Sophie.”

She laughed. “Sorry, Myrtle. Just don’t like to cook.”

“Yeah, I never thought to see the day when you would willingly cook something.”

“Stranger things will happen; I’m sure.”

“Stranger things are standing in front of me in this kitchen.”

Sophie looked down at herself. She did look odd. She had woken up especially early (before ten), but hadn’t changed out of her pajamas. She had put a bathrobe on, and then added an apron over that. She had also put her black hair up in a knot on the very top on her head, but flour still seemed to have gotten up there, giving Sophie the look as if she had aged overnight.

“I promise I’ll change before we go.”

Myrtle laughed. “You’d better…I’m not sure Peter would go for the winner of the worst-dressed chef award.”

Sophie rolled her eyes, picked up a handful of flour and blew it on her roommate. There followed a very interesting ingredient fight, which resulted in Sophie picking blueberries out of her hair and Myrtle trying to scrub honey off of her hands. Sophie looked around at the demolished kitchen.

“We can clean this up later…”

Of course, by ‘we’, she meant Myrtle.

****

Meanwhile, the guys were trying to make their apartment ready for Thanksgiving dinner. Peter and Mike had pulled and extra table out of storage and had set it up in the kitchen to make one large dining table. Micky had found a green sheet that would work as a table cloth. Davy put a large Indian headdress on Mr. Schneider, who didn’t seem to mind, and had taped a whole bunch of dried leaves all over the doorways and the winding staircase.

Micky had slipped out earlier and returned with a few bottles of wine to have dinner. Mike had taken extra care not to blow the kitchen up while he boiled some eggs to make potato salad with. And so, as four o’clock rolled around, the apartment was very festive. Mike was fussing over mismatched silverware, Micky was trying to ignore Mike, Peter was upstairs practicing how not to make himself look like an idiot, and Davy had left to pick up Hilda.

He had invited Julie along first but she had plans with family. Hilda was a girl that Davy had met at a producer’s office, where she worked as a secretary. Davy had never met her outside the office (and had only met her inside the office once), but like him, she was European and had no plans for Thanksgiving, so Davy had given her a call.

Sophie and Myrtle made their ungainly way over to the guy’s apartment, carrying several foil-wrapped plates. When they discovered that they couldn’t knock on the door, Sophie proceeded to bellow.

“Nesmith! If you want this damned turkey, you had best open the door!”

Peter had been on his way downstairs and was closest to the door. He opened it and Sophie and Myrtle tumbled in. Peter and Micky helped the girls unload all the food while Mike started setting up chairs around the table. It wasn’t too long until Davy showed up with Hilda.

When Davy was having an off week, he at least did it proper. Hilda was a very tall girl, like Sophie. But unlike Sophie, who was very skinny, Hilda was a large girl. She was from Switzerland and had been raised in the Alpine region. A mountaineer by birth, this was no girly-girl. Davy had never noticed this, seeing as the only time he had met her she had been behind a receptionist’s desk. The two were obviously not compatible, although she and Sophie hit it off almost immediately. Davy was very happy about this.

Soon, everyone gathered around the table and sat down to eat. This being a traditional Thanksgiving dinner (apart from the zürigschnätzlets that Hilda brought, which was apparently a common Swiss dish), Mike wanted to say grace. They all held hands around the table (Peter jolting slightly when Sophie grabbed his hand) and Mike said grace

“Bless this table, O Lord, and the wonderful Thanksgiving dinner on it. And also bless the friends gathered around this table, and the family who couldn’t be here with us. And thank you, Lord, for our good health and thank you for sparing us from any accidents or explosions this year…”

“Amen!” Micky said loudly, and everyone began to grab for food. Everything was delicious, and complements on the turkey came from all directions. The only thing that remained untouched was Hilda’s zürigschnätzlets, which only Hilda and Sophie tried. Of course, Hilda enjoyed it immensely, but Sophie was able to sneakily spit her mouthful out in a napkin.

After everyone had eaten their fill, and then some, Sophie, Myrtle, and Hilda started a dish washing chain and sent the boys into the living room where they collapsed around the television.

Mike turned the T.V onto the big football game, but Peter wasn’t paying it any attention. Instead, he was watching Sophie out of the corner of his eye.

She stood at the end of the dish-washing line, and was drying the plates as Myrtle finished washing them. She was obviously making fun of her roommate, who looked especially little standing between Hilda and Sophie. The girls hadn’t dressed up much for the dinner, although Peter thought that Sophie may have taken a little extra time in getting ready than she usually did. She was wearing a black skirt and button up shirt. Her hair was braided back the same way it was pulled back when she went to work. It occurred to Peter that he had never seen her wear make up, and today was no exception. It amazed him that Sophie could just be that naturally beautiful.

As if she had felt him looking at her, Sophie abruptly glanced back over her shoulder at Peter and held his gaze from across the room. She smiled brightly at him, waved the dish towel a bit, and then went back to drying.

When all the dishes were done and taken care of, the girls sat down in the living room; Myrtle groaning when she noticed it was football on, Sophie cheered when she saw the score, at which point she was booed by Mike. Sophie was delegated the task of explaining the game to Hilda, who had asked Davy first, but his response was “heck if I know”. Hilda soon gave up understanding the game, however, as Sophie kept interrupting herself to cheer.

While the game was on, Micky and Myrtle slipped out onto the balcony. With the doors and windows closed, it was exceptionally quiet outside; the only noise was the waves on the beach, which was unusually deserted.

Myrtle eventually suggested a walk out on the beach and so they went. Micky grabbed her hand as they went down the steps, although a few paces down the beach he let go of her hand and put his arm around her shoulders.

“Hey, if you really like to walk, about ten minutes from here is something really neat I’d like to show you,” Micky asked, hoping she would like to go.

“Sure. What is it?”

Micky grinned impishly. “It’s a surprise.”

Myrtle rolled her eyes and laughed. “Lead on, then.”

The secret place turned out to be a small cave awhile down the beach. Davy and Micky had found it a couple of years back, and had stashed away some blankets and candles and other things in the back of the cave for use on dates. It was a relatively dry place and it didn’t drip or have bats in it like most caves did. Davy came here considerably more often than any of the others, but they all considered it theirs.

Micky pulled Myrtle in after him, and led her to the back. She noticed the things they had hidden.

“So, what is this place, some sort of secret Monkee make-out spot?”

Micky laughed. “Not really. It’s more of a secret Davy Jones make-out spot, but he lets the rest of us use it too.”

“So you’ve brought other girls down here too, have you?”

Micky winced at the uncomfortable question and Myrtle saw him and laughed. “Oh, it’s alright if you have, I was just curious.”

Micky shrugged. “One or two, yeah.” He leaned over and kissed Myrtle lightly on the lips. “But never anyone very serious before now.”

“Well, that’s good.” She kissed him back, a little harder this time.

Micky set out a couple of the blankets and they lay down on the floor of the cave together. Micky leaned down to kiss Myrtle again, this time not pulling away. The kisses started out being very sweet and tender, but they soon became hotter, Myrtle pulling Micky on top of her in a very suggestive way. Micky began to consider that he had landed himself a bombshell.

Time flew past for the couple, and as was inevitable, Micky began to have to fight off certain instincts that he wasn’t sure Myrtle may appreciate at this stage in the relationship. He pushed himself off her and lay on his back.

“Myrtle, we need to stop…”

She obviously didn’t feel the same way. She rolled over next to him and kissed his neck. “Why?”

Micky spluttered, at a loss for words for a change. “Do you really want to do this?”

Myrtle looked at him funny. “You don’t?”

“No! I mean, yeah I do, it’s just…We don’t really know each other well, and…”

Myrtle rolled her eyes. “Micky, I like you and I can tell you like me. Does it really need to be more complicated than that? Besides, what did you bring me to this cave for anyway?”

As she continued to kiss his neck and down onto his chest, Micky began to think she had a point.

“The others will wonder where we are…” Micky mentioned, trying to give Myrtle a last chance to change her mind.

“Sophie knows what we’re doing, she’ll cover for me…”

Micky sighed and gave over, rolling Myrtle on her back again, this time laying full out on top of her. He couldn’t help but to ask again, “Are you sure about this?”

Myrtle smiled at him. “Very much so.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her in a kiss that defied all the others before. Micky moved his hands from her waist to her thighs, pushing the skirt she was wearing up. She sat up a bit and pulled her sweater off; the static made her hair fly out like a halo.

Micky smoothed it down and began unbuttoning her shirt, kissing each new area of skin that was revealed. Myrtle made an odd, throaty noise when he got to the waistband of her skirt. She arched her back and pulled the shirt off.

Myrtle ran her hands down Micky’s chest and arms and back, feeling the muscles there built up from hours working on the drums. She unzipped his jeans and felt him hard against her and he pressed up against her and they were soon together, rocking with each other, sweat pouring down their faces despite the cold cave.

When it was over, Micky collapsed on top of Myrtle, who was shivering, not entirely from the cold. He rested his head on her chest, her heart beating loudly and rapidly in his ear. It was a while before they got up and walked back to the apartment.

****

Sophie did in fact know what they were doing. She had known Myrtle for going on ten years, and she always seemed to know what her friend was doing. If any of Micky’s friends knew what he was doing, they didn’t let on.

Sophie didn’t let on either; rather she cheered wildly when her team won the game and proceeded to force Mike to carry her around the living room for a victory lap. She made friends with Hilda, who explained the finer points of goat husbandry to Sophie, who was honestly interested. She complemented Davy on his choice in women and was awarded in what she could only assume was some sort of British obscene hand gesture.

Sophie also managed to get Peter on his own, which seemed nearly impossible; he kept moving, and Sophie thought he may be avoiding her. She revised this opinion, however, when he slipped out on to the balcony. Only an idiot would try and hide on a balcony.

“Hey, Pete!”

Peter jumped when he heard her voice. “Hello!”

Sophie stood next to him at the railing. The sun’s final rays were shining on the last remnants of the week long rain storm, turning the sky into an amazing pink, red, and grey beauty.

“Oh, wow! This is amazing…”

“I saw it through the window and came out to see.”

Sophie nodded. “Do you think we should get the others?”

Peter froze. “No…Let’s just keep this one for ourselves.”

Something in his voice caught Sophie. She looked over at him; for a change Peter was looking right at her, not looking away, not being afraid of getting caught.

“You look very pretty today.”

Sophie wanted very much to look at her shoes, but couldn’t. “Thank you…you look nice today, too.”

“Thank you…” Peter glanced back at the sunset. “I wish I had a camera.”  
  
“It might take away some of the magic, though.”

 

Peter nodded and looked back at Sophie. She was still watching him. He moved a little bit closer to her, appreciating the fact that they were the same height. She didn’t pull away, so he moved a bit closer still. They were inches apart from each other and Sophie knew this time he was going to kiss her…

But then the door behind them opened and Mike poked his head out. “Hey, have either of you seen Micky?”

Peter jolted away from Sophie as if electrocuted. “Uh, no, Michael, no Micky out here.”

Mike swore under his breath and went back inside. Peter avoided Sophie’s eyes again, and for some reason, she felt like crying. There was no reason to cry, of course, but still the sunset began to swim in front of her. Silently, she went back in the apartment. Peter didn’t follow.


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five; In Which A Great Assortment Of Odd Events Work To The Benefit Of Various Persons.

The Monkees had a gig at the Rich-Swank Hotel for a Christmas Dance for a local high school nearly two weeks after Thanksgiving. The ballroom was quite dark, and Micky had little trouble sneaking Myrtle and Hilda in.

Hilda, the poor girl, had very recently experienced a rather tragic turn of events. The producer she had worked for went bankrupt, so she was out of a job and out of an apartment. Sophie and Myrtle decided to take her in, sharing a room with Sophie rent-free until she found a job. As a result, Hilda was now often tagging along behind Myrtle, much to the chagrin of Davy. He generally made it a point not to hang around girls he had dumped, but Hilda seemed to stick around like glue. Although this was not necessarily her intent.

Sophie was not at the Christmas Dance, nor had she been at the Monkees’ apartment since Thanksgiving. Myrtle said that this was because she had hired full time at the club; the manager had gotten rid of three of his bands and so now Sophie worked there four nights a week. She was absolutely exhausted, Myrtle explained, and she had hardly seen Sophie anymore than the rest of them had.

Before too long, nearly one hundred hyper teenagers crowded into the very festively decorated ballroom. The Monkees took their cue and got up on the bandstand. Someone in the crowd wolf-whistled.

“Hey…” Mike pointed out in the audience, and glared before they started off with ‘Mary, Mary’. The teens liked the music and were dancing animatedly. Micky caught a glance of his Myrtle trying to teach Hilda American dance moves and he nearly fell off his seat behind the drum kit.

The set lasted three hours, with the crowd trickling out at ten, grumbling. The guys began to pack up.

“I thought your muzic was very good. Ve say in my Svitzerland, muzic is good for your soul.” Hilda had come up to help, followed by Myrtle who was slightly breathless.

“Thank you,” Micky said to Hilda as Myrtle came over and stood next to him. The girls helped them carry the gear out to the car, and then they all set off for the apartment. As they drove, Myrtle suddenly had an idea.

“Hey, do you guys want to go see Sophie? The club is right down the street…”

Mike shrugged. “Fine with me. How ‘bout you guys?”

Everyone except Peter were all for it. Peter hadn’t seen Sophie since the afternoon on the balcony when he had come so close to kissing her. He hadn’t meant to, it was just that she had looked so lovely standing there, the sun hitting her hair and eyes just right…He would’ve done it if Mike hadn’t come out on the balcony. Peter suspected that Sophie was angry at him, but he had no real reason for thinking that.

They pulled up to the club. Myrtle told them that it had three stories and a basement; the door to the basement was surrounded by a large crowd of men all dressed funny, some of them with stoned looks on their faces and others with their arms wrapped suggestively around each other. Myrtle laughed at the others edging around the crowd.

Micky leaned down to her ear. “You don’t find that a little weird?”

Myrtle snorted. “Sophie and I moved here from the Village; I dare say I’ve seen weirder things.” She led the way in the door and up a staircase. Myrtle explained that each floor had a different sort of music going. The basement was some sort of experimental, funky scene. The first floor they passed emanated pop music from the early fifties and sixties. Myrtle pushed her way in through the door on the second floor.

A wall of heat and blaring music hit them all as soon as they walked in. The floor was crowded with dancers who looked like they had been at it for quite some time, sweat running off all of them.

It was bluesy-rock music and it took awhile for them to recognize the song as ‘Long Tall Sally’. It also took them a while to remember it was Sophie up there. She had taken the song and shredded it apart, nearly screaming the lyrics, and doing a fantastic job of it. She had her guitar with her, and it was just her up on a small platform towards the front of the room.

As soon as they had came in, Myrtle had dragged Micky off to dance, Micky not protesting a bit. Davy had been spotted by a girl who looked like she hadn’t seen sunlight in years and also dragged off. Mike led Peter and Hilda over to a table on the side of the floor and they sat down to listen to Sophie and watch the other dancers.

Sophie never let down the pace, going from ‘Long Tall Sally’ right into ‘Ready Teddy’ in almost one breath. Peter couldn’t take his eyes off her. Like most of the people in the club, she was dressed in all black, and sweat was pouring down her face. There wasn’t much light in the place, but she had some light on her and it looked like she was glowing slightly. Peter thought she played wonderfully, at least as well as he or Mike could play, if not better.

This time when she finished to song, she took a break to talk. He voice sounded deeper than is usually did, and she looked pained talking. “Alright everyone, that’s it for me for awhile! Old John Wilson and His Old Blues Band will be on in a minute and I’ll be back in thirty.” She walked off the platform and out of sight.

Mike had just begun to mention going and finding Sophie, when she showed up out of nowhere carrying several bottles of coke in her arms.

“Where’s everyone else,” Sophie asked, setting the bottles down with a clatter, and then collapsing in a chair.

“Myrtle and Micky are dancing and Davy got dragged off by some vampire lady,” Peter explained while trying in vain to get the top off the coke.

Sophie laughed and set the bottle she had just opened in front of Peter. “Trade…Well, why aren’t you guys out dancing?”

Mike shook his head. “Not my bag.”

Hilda nodded. “I don’t know any American dances, and Myrtle said…”

Sophie scoffed. “Myrtle doesn’t know what she’s talking about; it looks like she’s made out of rubber when she dances, it creeps me out. Nesmith, go and teach the lady to dance…”

Mike yelped comically. “What?! I can’t….”

Sophie sat up in her chair and pointed threateningly. “Nesmith…,” she growled.

Mike put his hands up. “Fine, fine….Come on, Hilda.” Hilda looked nearly surprised as Sophie and Peter did, but followed Mike into the crowd.

Peter turned to Sophie in awe. “How did you do that?”

Sophie shrugged. “Hell if I know; I didn’t think it would work.”

“Why’d you do it, then?”

If Sophie were to answer truthfully, she would have said that she wanted to be alone with him. “Hilda needs to make some more friends, the poor thing. She’s lucky Davy introduced us or else she may had been out on the street…” Sophie trailed off distractedly, looking around the room and wiping more sweat off her brow.

Peter chanced a comment. “You’re really good.”

Sophie looked at him questioningly. “Up there, I mean,” Peter nodded his head at the platform.

“Oh, thanks…I’ll get around to seeing you guys sometime soon.”

“We gigged tonight…”

“Yeah, Myrtle told me this morning on her way out. A Christmas Dance.” Sophie looked back out at the crowd again, then sharply back at Peter.

“Hey, Pete?”

Peter had also been watching the dancers. “Huh?”

“Do you wanna dance?”

Peter fidgeted. “Oh, uhm…”

“Not your bag, either?”

Peter glanced over at her. “No…I mean, yeah, it’s my bag, I’ll dance with you.”

Sophie looked a little surprised, but stood and led Peter out on the floor. If Sophie had spent hours planning this, it couldn’t have gone better. As soon as the two had found a spot to dance, Old John (who was actually in his twenties and a good friend of Sophie’s) switched over to a slow song, dedicating it to all those lovers out there.

For a brief moment, Peter considered bolting, but decided against it. Instead, he put a slightly shaking hand on Sophie’s waist and picked up her hand in his other. Sophie fell right into it, moving with him and the music.

Neither talked for a while, Peter concentrating on not tripping up and Sophie attempting to absorb all of Peter that she could; the way his hand compulsively twitched on her waist, the gentle way his other hand held hers, the smell of his aftershave and shampoo, the way his eyes glanced into hers every so often before looking away again . Too soon, the song was over.

“….we’ll be back later, folks, but up next is Miss Sophie Monroe!”

Sophie startled. “That’s me.”

She began to walk away, but Peter gripped her hand for a moment before she let go. “Wait.”

She turned around to him. “Yeah?”

Peter looked like he was trying to decide on what to say. “I’ll see you later?”

Sophie winked. “Absolutely.” He dropped her hand, but before he could walk off, Sophie asked him, “Hey, Pete, you want me to play something when I get up there?”

Peter shrugged. “What’s your favorite song to sing?”

She winked again, and then disappeared. Peter slowly made his way back to the table, where no one else had returned.

As soon as he sat down, Sophie walked out on the platform. “Hello! I’m back, and I’d like to play this song specially for a young man who was thoughtful enough to request it…”

Even though the room was dark and they weren’t very close to each other, Sophie managed to catch Peter’s eye and broke into a sped up version of ‘Sweet Home Chicago’.

****

Mike was surprised to find that he was having a lot of fun with Hilda. They had taken a break from dancing and had sat down at a table. She was telling him about some adventures she had had in the mountains near her old home in Switzerland, and Mike had told her tales from him and his uncle exploring the desert in Texas. The two had hit it off really well.

Unbeknownst to any of their friends, Myrtle had dragged Micky to the top floor in the building. All sorts of colored lights were swirling around, and most of the people dancing looked like they were high on one thing or another. All along the walls were these odd tent-like things that extended from the ceiling to the floor in opaque silky curtains. Myrtle led Micky around, peeking sneakily into each one until she found one that obviously suited her. She pulled Micky in behind her, and he was able to see what she was up to.

The silky curtain tent was hiding a very large cushion sitting on the floor; large enough for two people to lay on. Micky looked around. “So, this is what you and Sophie used to get up to in the Village?”

Myrtle laughed and flopped backwards on the cushion, spreading her arms wide. “This was more Sophie’s scene than mine.”

Micky laid down next to her. “I find that hard to believe.”

Myrtle nodded. “Sophie’s been relatively low-key since we left; she learned a hard lesson a hard way.”

“What lesson’s that?”

“That’s Sophie’s story to tell, Mick, not mine.”

“Oh, come on…”

“You know, I can think of several things we could be doing that are far more interesting than Sophie Monroe….”

That shut Micky up, and the two of them scooted back so that they were laying full out on the cushion. Micky ran his hand over Myrtle’s stomach and leaned down to kiss her. Something in the room was magical, he decided. The music could still be heard clearly, and it was some sort of instrumental, tribal stuff that Micky didn’t recognize, but he let it permeate his mind and it took his body away with it. There was also something very taboo about the situation; the idea that a simple curtain separated them from a whole room of people was intensely erotic.

Micky hadn’t had a lot of sex in his young life, and despite Myrtle’s claims, neither had she, but what the couple experienced that night surpassed anything either of them had ever experienced before. When it was over, they lay clutching each other, both breathing rapidly.

“Myrtle?”

“Yeah, Mick?”

“I love you.”

Myrtle’s breath caught in her throat for a moment. “I love you too, Mick.”

The pair didn’t go back down to the second floor for a long while.

****

Mike and Hilda had resumed dancing, and Davy nor Micky and Myrtle had been seen since they got to the club. Peter, still at the same table, was beginning to worry. Usually Mike did the worrying, that was what he did, but he looked to caught up in Hilda to think about anything else.

Sophie came back to the table for the fourth time, meaning that it was near one o’ clock in the morning. “Hey, Pete.”

“Hey, Sophie. What time does this place close down?”

“One-thirty. Mack will probably be coming through soon, herding people out. I’m fixing to go myself.” She held the guitar case she was carrying up and nodded towards the door.

“Oh…I should wait for the others.”

Sophie laughed. “You may be here for a while. Everyone leaves at once, so it gets crowded, and no one wants to leave until the last minute.”

“I don’t even know where anyone is….”

Sophie pointed out across the room. “Davy’s enjoying his time with Vampira, necking over there, Mike is over there with Hilda, dancing away, and Micky’s up there with Myrtle.” She pointed at the ceiling.

Peter looked up. “What’s up there?”

Sophie considered answering honestly, but remembered that one thing she loved the most about Peter was his innocence. She wouldn’t do anything to ruin that. “It’s quieter up there…People can talk in private.”

Peter nodded. “Oh…” Then he caught on. “Oh!”

Sophie laughed. “Well, I’m leaving. You can come with me or wait on the others.” She began to make her way over to the door and Peter followed.

It was a longish walk, but neither seemed to mind, walking side by side in a companionable silence for a while. The street lights had garlands on them and all the store fronts looked cheerfully decorated, it nearly being a week until Christmas.

Peter walked Sophie up to her door, feeling unnecessarily nervous about doing so, almost like he was walking her home after a date. She didn’t help any by stopping to talk at the door instead of going right in.

“You guys need to come to the club more often; it was fun having you around.”

Peter nodded and fidgeted a bit. “We’ll try.” Peter looked down at his shoes for a second. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

Sophie laughed. “More than likely I’ll be at your place….Myrtle will want to be with Micky, and Christmas is a drag with just two people.”

“You’re more than welcome to come.”

Sophie smiled a bit. “Thank you, Pete.” She swatted at a little bug that was flying around, and doing so she caught a glimpse of something above her door. She tsked.

“Typical Myrtle; hang mistletoe right above the door.” Normally, Sophie may have been the one behind that, but this year it was all on Myrtle. Sophie thought she must have talked Hilda into helping her because Myrtle couldn’t reach that high.

Sophie looked at Peter; he was glancing sporadically back and forth from the door to her face, as if trying to decide what to do.

Sophie sighed and turned her key in the lock. “Goodnight, Peter.” She opened her door and was halfway inside before Peter made a strange choking noise and reached out to touch her shoulder.

“Wait…”

Sophie turned back. “Yeah?”

Peter hesitated for a moment, as if trying to work out what to do next. He stepped closer to Sophie, his hand still on her shoulder. He slipped his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her face to his.

Sophie had been leaning against the door frame and she was suddenly grateful for this because she thought that she may have fallen over. She felt completely swept away. She didn’t feel ready when Peter broke the kiss a moment later, but she saw immediately why he had done so.

The Monkeemobile had just pulled up, and their friends were pouring out of it, laughing and cutting up.

“Oh, Sophie! There you are, you had me worried…” Myrtle made her way up to the apartment after kissing Micky goodnight and whispering something at him.

“We walked home,” Sophie said, her eyes not leaving Peter’s.

“I see that.” Myrtle walked between the two into the apartment, Hilda not far behind, waving good-bye to Mike.

Quite suddenly, the two were alone again. Peter looked away, shy again.

“Goodnight Peter,” Sophie said again. This time he nodded.

“Goodnight.” Secretly he was thinking it was unlikely he would sleep much that night. Secretly she was thinking the same thing.

He started to walk away, but he turned back. “I’ll see you at Christmas?” He sounded worried and unsure, as if he had scared her off.

Sophie smiled and nodded. “If not before,” and with that she shut the door.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six; In Which Sophie Encounters Ghosts From The Past (No Christmas Pun Intended), Davy Does The Impossible, Mike Finds Himself In A Closet (Again), And Myrtle Surprises Micky (Although This Isn’t Uncommon)

Since Thanksgiving had been such a huge monetary blow-out, the Monkees decided against throwing a Christmas party. Niles, another neighbor from down the street was having one, though, and it would seem as though he invited everyone within a two block radius, whether he knew them or not.

And so, December twenty-second found all four Monkees, Sophie, Hilda, Myrtle, and Julie (the waitress Sophie had hooked Davy up with) walking up to Niles’ house together. Myrtle had cooked up some more of her green marshmallow cookies, and Davy had somehow managed to make a casserole successfully.

As soon as they entered the party, they all split apart into couples; Micky and Myrtle somehow disappearing soon after, not to be seen again until the next evening (although that will be explained further in all due time), Davy dragging Julie off to dance to the Christmas music blaring somewhat too loudly from Niles’ record player. Mike began searching for Niles, Hilda following closely behind, looking nervous about being among so many people she didn’t know. Peter and Sophie glanced at each other. Someone who knew Peter called out his name from across the room, and he glanced over. When he looked back, Sophie was gone.

****

Sophie, in fact, had been pulled off into the crowd by Myrtle. “Sophie, you’ll never believe it!” Myrtle was pulling her along by her elbow.

“What won’t I believe?” Sophie was slightly irritated.

“I found Niles!”

“That’s wonderful….” She tried to pull her elbow loose, but Myrtle kept a good hold.

“But Sophie, it’s Niles…”

“Niles who?”

“Our Niles,” Myrtle answered, still dragging Sophie along for a bit then stopping next to the Niles in question.

Niles was about the same height as Peter, with white-blonde hair and a somewhat permanent look of not being all there. But when he saw Sophie, he lit up.

“Oh,” Sophie exclaimed. “Our Niles!”

He laughed and swung her around. “Sophie, babe! When did you get here?”

“Since Thanksgiving, man, when did you get here?”

“Five months ago…”

Sophie pulled away suddenly. “James isn’t with you, is he?”

Niles shook his head, and then motioned out the window. “Hey, let’s catch up outside…where it’s quieter?”

She looked around. Peter was nowhere to be seen. “Sure.”

****

It was unusually cool outside. Niles didn’t live on the beach like the others did, rather he had a back yard with a fence, and you could climb over the fence and cut through his neighbor’s yard to get to the beach. Sophie and Niles sat in the grass facing the house with their backs against the fence.

“You and Myrtle left the Village before I did…How come it took so long to get here?”

“We ran out of money somewhere near Memphis and had to work our way cross country.” Sophie picked at a few blades of grass. “What happened to James?”

Niles shrugged. “He hung around for awhile, but he couldn’t stay…he said the memories haunted him.” Sophie snorted lightly. “Don’t do that, you didn’t see him…”

Sophie glared at Niles. “And you didn’t see me after he pushed me down that flight of stairs?”

Niles flinched, somewhat guiltily. “Don’t do that….”

Sophie glared some more, but then let up. “Go on.”

“I don’t know where he is. Maybe San Francisco, maybe Seattle, or maybe even Miami.”

“Miami?”

Niles shrugged. “You know James, totally random….”

Sophie nodded. “How long has it been since you saw him?”

“The day I left New York five months ago….Why are you so anxious about it?”

“I don’t want him sneaking up on me unexpectedly. I’ve moved on, I have a new life…And I don’t want James McCallister to be any part of it. If he knew where I was he would ruin everything and you know it.” She glared again at Niles. “He won’t find out where I am, right?”

Niles nodded. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Sophie continued to glare. “It had better be. If he sneaks up on me anytime soon, I’ll be holding your sorry ass to blame….”

He flapped his hands. “Yeah, yeah, calm down. He won’t find you through me.”

Sophie nodded and relaxed. She spotted Peter through the window, but he didn’t see her. She smiled slightly watching him, forgetting for a moment about Niles.

“Oh….I see how it is.”

“The dope’s goin’ to your head, man, I don’t know what you mean….”

Niles laughed. “Keeps your eyes in your head, Louie. He’s not your type.”

Sophie grimaced. “Don’t call me that. I hate that.”

He nodded. “Right sorry….”

“And what do you mean not my type?”

“Man, you really have changed. Peter’s an alright guy; sweet, very nice….too nice for you.”

“I can go for sweet and nice….”

“Not the Sophie I knew, who used to….”

Sophie shook her head. “No, no let’s not get into what Sophie used to do.”

Niles didn’t say anything. Sophie pulled her knees up to her chest and sighed. “But maybe you’re right….Maybe there is too big a difference.”

Niles stood up. “Oh, you know better than to listen to me. Do what you want….”

Sophie stayed sitting as Niles went back in to his party. She stayed outside for a long while.

****

Peter had given up trying to find Sophie, and was sitting on the couch in between Mike and some girl he thought he had seen out walking on the beach. She was pretty in a very obvious way; long, blonde hair, bright blue eyes, medium height, curvy. Peter was trying to ignore her, despite the fact that she was sitting quite closer than was necessary and was batting her eyes at him.

After the second time Peter had offered to get her a tissue for whatever was in her eye, she sighed and walked off. After she was gone, Mike leaned over to him. “Hey, Pete, I think she was flirting with you.”

“What?” Peter looked over at the deserted spot next to him distractedly. “No, no, she couldn’t have been…”

“Man, what’s up with you tonight? You’re actin’ really weird.”

Peter shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m going to get some food, you want anything?”

Mike motioned to the still full plate of food he had on his lap. “No, I’m good.”

Peter nodded, still a bit distractedly, and wandered off to the kitchen. Despite the fact that the house was full of people, the kitchen was empty except for one person; Peter’s friend from the couch. He waved a bit shyly as she walked over.

“Hello, Peter. I was just about to come find you again….” She was, yet again, standing too close, cornering Peter against the bend in the countertop.

“Oh, well, uhm….”

She had somehow anchored him to her, one arm around the front of his torso to his waist, and the other slipped through his arm. He tried to pull away, but the woman was stronger than she looked.

Peter was desperately looking around, trying to find a way out. There was none. But quite suddenly, she was kissing him, and he stopped trying to get away. In fact, he stopped thinking at all, rather he decided to give in to the woman and let himself be swept away.

He wasn’t sure how long they stood there, or how many people may have passed through the kitchen, simply ignoring them, but when they finally broke apart, Peter instinctively looked towards the door. Sure enough, Sophie stood there.

She didn’t look angry. In fact, she didn’t look like anything. Peter gaped at her for a moment before, very abruptly, she turned and headed towards the front door. Peter managed to extricate himself from the woman, who looked quite livid at him doing so, and he managed to catch up with Sophie at the front of the house. She had just reached out to open the door when he caught hold of her arm.

“Sophie, wait. I can explain…”

She turned. “Explain what? You’re free to kiss who you’d like, Peter, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. It’s not like I’m your girlfriend or something…”

She went to open the door again, but he hadn’t let go. “You could be,” Peter said quietly, almost too quietly for her to hear.

Sophie sighed and turned back towards him again. “I could be what?,” she asked, although fully knowing the answer.

“My girlfriend. You know, if you wanted to….” He let go of her arm.

Sophie looked down at the floor. The truth was, walking in on Peter and whos-a-futz-it hadn’t bothered her. True, she wanted to slap the woman, but she wasn’t mad at Peter. The woman lived next to Sophie and she had seen her come home at all hours of night with a bigger variety of men than your average crayon box had colors. What was bothering her was that Niles had had a point outside. They were different. Maybe too different.

She shook her head. “No, Peter. I don’t think I could.” She reached out for the door, and this time he let her go, watching her disappear into the front yard, feeling as if the whole house was crumbling around him.

While the drama inside was unfolding, Micky and Myrtle had slipped outside and walked down to the beach, both preferring the quiet sound of the ocean to the loud noises of the party. It was slightly cooler than it usually was, and they both were bundled up in their coats and they walked with their arms tight around each other.

They walked in silence for a while, enjoying the warmth they were getting from each other. Micky broke this silence.

“Just wondering….How did you and Sophie know Niles?”

“He used to live near us in the Village. He had a roommate named James, and he and Sophie were together for a long while.”

“What happened?”

Myrtle stayed silent for a while. “That’s a long story, but James wasn’t a very good boyfriend, and one day he went to far. Sophie waited until he and Niles went on a trip to Washington and then we packed up and headed out. We got as far as Memphis before we ran out of money, and then we just worked our way cross country until we got here.”

“Why did you come with her?”

“I couldn’t let her go alone. She took me in when I had no place to go….She protected me, made sure I didn’t get into any trouble….For a change, she needed me.”

Micky nodded. “Is he here now?”

“Who? Oh, James you mean? No, Niles said he was either in San Francisco or Miami or something like that. But I don’t know if I trust Niles. He and James were really close, and he may let James know where Sophie is….Maybe not on purpose, but there is always that possibility.”

Micky nodded some more. “I hope he doesn’t show up. If you had to leave….”

Myrtle stopped walking. “I don’t think I could leave. Sophie’s gotten over it, she’s a big girl. I’d want to stay here with you.”

Micky kissed the top of her head. “I want you to stay here with me, too.”

They walked for a while longer. Micky broke the silence again. “I want to ask you something….” He sounded nervous.

“Yeah, okay….Shoot.”

“I was thinking of taking a road trip.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I thought of taking the car, driving for a while. Maybe get to Las Vegas.”

“And what exactly would you do in Vegas?”

“Well, I don’t have much money, so I wouldn’t go to any of the casinos….But I have heard that you can get married there.”

Myrtle stopped walking again. “And who exactly are you planning on marrying?”

“You, if you’d like,” he looked down at her, realizing how unlikely her saying yes was.

Myrtle knew how spontaneous Micky was, how random his acts were. This seemed like a spur of the moment thing, and she thought about how likely it was that he could wake up in the morning, regretting this moment.

But she didn’t care. “Alright.”

Micky blinked in surprise, but they turned around and headed back toward the apartment, where they hopped in to the Monkeemobile and headed towards Las Vegas.

****

Mike couldn’t find anyone he knew. Davy had already left with Julie, who was apparently indisposed and had burst into tears when she had dropped a cracker on the floor. Davy had taken her home after she had calmed down a bit.

Mike hadn’t even seen Micky ever since they had walked in. Peter had left an hour ago, looking like he was about to burst into tears, but he told Mike that he was fine. Sophie had disappeared as well, and Hilda hadn’t been seen since that guy, Frank, had pulled her off to dance.

Mike had long since given up trying to find his friends. Now he was trying to find a quiet place to think. He tried the bathroom, but it was occupied. He was now hunting for a closet. The first one he tried had a couple in it, but the second one was free. Or so he thought.

After Mike had closed the door, he turned on the light. To his great surprise Hilda was there. Mike jumped and they both screamed. Mike fervently hoped that the shriller sounding scream was Hilda’s.

“What are you doing here?” He asked after calmed down.

“I vas trying to find a place for quiet. Vat are you doing here?”

Mike sighed and sat down on a trunk. “More or less the same thing.”

Hilda sat down across from him on a box. “You don’t like zis party much either?”

“Oh I like it fine. I just don’t like it past three hours.”

“I vas thinking of going home soon….Vould you like to valk with me?”

Mike shrugged. “I don’t know where anyone else is. I don’t want to leave anyone here alone….”

“You care for your friends very much. I think zis is very sveet.”

Mike felt a heat flush mysteriously up his neck. “Thank you.”

“Zophie left early. She looked very sad. I think she does not get sad very often.”

“Yeah, Peter left earlier, too. Maybe something happened between the two of them.”

“I really should go, zen.”

“Yeah, I’ll go too….In any event, I’m just about tired of this party.” He stood up and held out his hand to help Hilda up. The closet was smallish and cramped, so it was only natural that when the pair of them were standing up they were very close. Mike was only a little bit taller than Hilda, so he was looking down in her eyes.

Mike flashed back to the couple of moments with Sophie, and thought about how different it was. With Sophie it was spontaneous and….well, flingy. When Hilda kissed him, it was with so much more feeling and meaning, Mike nearly rocked back.

When they broke apart, Mike looked down at her. Hilda smiled back at him. He rubbed the back of her neck a bit. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

As they left the closet, Mike’s arm still around Hilda’s shoulders, Davy popped up. “Oh, Mike, there you are! Are you about ready to go?”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll be home after I walk Hilda back.”

Davy’s eyes suddenly shifted from Mike to Hilda as if just seeing her. “Oh….Oh! Sure, yeah. Peter and Mick back there yet?”

“Peter, I think. Make sure he’s okay when you get there, I think something happened with him and Sophie.”

Davy nodded. “Alright. I’ll see you later.”

Before Davy walked off, Mike asked him, “Hey, what happened with Julie?”

Davy rolled his eyes. “She’s crazy. She cried all the way to her house, and then all three of her roommates ganged up on me, demanding to know what I did to her. I’ve decided; I’m swearing off girls. For one whole month until this bad streak is over. A whole month!”

Mike snorted. “I’ll believe that when it really happens.” And he and Hilda headed towards the door.

****

When Mike eventually got home (an hour and a half later) it was to find the car out of the garage, Micky nowhere to be seen, and Davy was sitting in the living room reading a magazine and obviously trying to stay awake.

“Hey, man, where’re Peter and Micky?”

“Well, I don’t know about Micky, but he took the car, so I guess he’ll be back soon. And Peter is pacing upstairs. I tried to talk to him, but he yelled at me.”

“He yelled at you?”

“Yeah! He told me he didn’t want to see anyone and to leave him well enough alone.”

Mike looked upstairs to the room he shared with Peter. “That doesn’t sound like him….Maybe I should try and talk to him.”

Davy nodded. “Good luck. I’m going to bed.”

“Goodnight.” Mike went through the living room, turning off the lights and making sure all the doors were locked. Then he went upstairs and knocked on the bedroom door. When he didn’t hear an answer, he opened the door anyway.

Peter had stopped pacing and was sitting on his bed, head in his hands. Mike hadn’t ever seen him like this. He looked up when he heard the door, his eyes bloodshot.

“Hey, shotgun. What’s going on?”

Peter shook his head and then looked back down at the floor again. Mike sat down next to his friend on the bed and nudged him with his shoulder. “Come on, man. You know if you don’t talk about it neither of us can go to sleep….”

“Just leave off it, Michael. I’m not going to sleep anyway,” he said irritably, standing up.

Mike was shocked. “Pete, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk like that, to me or anyone.”

Peter scowled and crossed his arms, kicking at the floor with his shoe. But then he sighed and turned away, his shoulders shaking a bit. “I’m sorry,” he choked out.

Mike looked at the floor, now feeling uncomfortable. “It’s all right, man. Just….just calm down and tell me what’s going on.”

Peter wiped his face with one of his sleeves and sat on Mike’s bed. “Sophie hates me,” he whispered.

“What? I’m sure she doesn’t….”

“Yes, she does. You remember the other night when we all went to the club?” Mike nodded.

“Well, after I walked home with Sophie, I…I kissed her.”

Mike looked confused. “That’s no reason for her to hate you.”

“No, that’s not it. Tonight at the party, she saw me and that girl from the couch…kissing in the kitchen.”

“Oh! I see….Did she yell or….”

Peter shook his head. “No, no, no. I tried to apologize, but she said that I was free to kiss however I wanted, and that she wasn’t my girlfriend. I asked her if she wanted to be my girlfriend, but she said no and….” Peter made a shooing motion towards the door and then buried his head in his hands again.

Mike sat silent for a while. “I’m sorry, Peter. Maybe she just wants to be friends with you….Or maybe you need to talk to her about this…”

Peter shook his head some more. “How can I face her again?”

Mike went and sat next to Peter on the other bed. He hesitated, but put his arm around his friend’s shoulders. “Now, don’t worry about that. She’ll come over again soon and when you see her you’ll know what to say.” Peter looked on the verge of tears again. Mike jostled him some.

“Seriously, Pete. It’ll all be okay. You want me to talk to her?”

Peter looked comically horrified for a moment and shook his head. “No!”

Mike laughed and stood up. “Get off my bed, man, and go to sleep. Things’ll look better in the morning.”

Peter stood up, but walked towards the door. “I think I’ll go for a walk.”

“It’s the middle of the night!”

Peter shot a look at Mike and he backed off. “Stop worrying, Michael.”

Mike nodded. “Fair enough. Just don’t go too far.”

Peter looked a bit surprised that Mike had actually listened, but he headed out the door. Mike started getting ready for bed, but knew that he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until Peter came back in. He didn’t come back until dawn.


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven; In Which The Author Runs Out Of Creative Chapter Names, And Simply Decides To Name This Chapter ‘Frank’

Peter was sitting in the chair in the living room, reading a magazine. Davy was out, already abandoning his pledge to swear off girls by sitting on the beach, flirting with all passerby. Mike had gone out to do a load of clothes at the Laundromat. Micky was still out where ever he had gone the night before.

Someone knocked on the door. “It’s open,” Peter called, thinking it must be one of the other Monkees. When he looked over the top of the magazine, however, it was to see Sophie standing in the doorway.

Peter’s mouth fell open when he saw her. Her hair fell loose around her shoulder, where it was usually pulled back out of the way. At first glance, Peter thought she was wearing a long red dress, but a closer look reveled that it was simply a wrap around robe. She was clutching it shut near the top.

Sophie closed the door behind her as she walked in. “Are we alone,” she asked, walking slowly across the room towards Peter.

“Uh, as far as I know,” Peter answered, his eyes not leaving her, his mouth going dry.

“Good,” she whispered as she reached the chair. She let go of the front of her robe to put her hands on the armrests of Peter’s chair. He realized why she had been holding the robe shut; she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Peter gulped nervously and tried to keep his eyes on Sophie’s face.

She straddled him in the chair, putting her knees on either side of his hips. She cupped his face in her hands and brought his face to hers. Peter had tightened up when she had sat in the chair with him, but as soon as her lips touched his he relaxed. He allowed himself to be swept off by her; the feel of her body against his, her hair soft in his hands, the wonderful smell that he had come to associate with her.

She loosened the belt of her robe and he led his hands in, running over the smooth skin of her back, over her shoulders, to the warm, soft area of her chest. She moaned into his mouth, then softly spoke his name. He kissed her again.

“Peter….” Now her voice was louder, deeper and the accent had changed slightly.

“Peter….” Now even more changes. Peter opened his eyes….

And he was in his bed, curled up in the sheets. It was Mike who was saying his name, leaning over the bed with his hands cupped around his mouth.

“Peter, man, you are never this hard to wake up. What time did you get in last night?”

Peter groaned into his pillow, trying to remember. “Five-thirty. What time is it now?”

“Two in the afternoon.” Mike looked down at him pityingly. “How are you feeling?”

Peter thought about how best to describe the feeling of having your heart crushed and then the best dream you had ever had being ruined by your best friend. “Not very good.”

“Well, if you want to hurry, you can come with me and Davy to the store. But if you just want to hang out here today, I’ll understand.” Peter nodded.

“Thank you. Micky still isn’t back?” Mike shook his head.

“No. If he hasn’t called by this evening we’ll start worrying.” By looking at Mike’s face, it was obvious that he was already worrying.

“He’ll be fine, Michael.”

Mike nodded distractedly. “Yeah….”

“Do you need me to do anything while you’re gone,” Peter asked, his face still half buried in the pillow. Mike shrugged.

“Wash the dishes, if you get the urge, I suppose. I’ll see you later, alright?”

Peter nodded, and Mike left. Peter waited until he heard the front door slam shut and then he pulled himself out of bed, grabbed some clothes, and jumped into the shower, making the water as cold as he could possibly stand it.

Peter’s day passed uneventfully. He washed all the dishes in the sink, then moved on to cleaning the kitchen, which in turn led to cleaning the living room and the bathroom. When Mike and Davy walked in, they were very surprised.

“Whoa, Peter! I don’t think this place has looked so clean since we moved in….” Davy sat the grocery bags he was carrying on the newly shined kitchen table. Peter shrugged and looked around.

“Thank you. I got a little bored while you were gone…”

“Did you hear any from Micky?” Mike asked, also setting down bags.

Peter shook his head no, and then the horribly inevitable happened. There was a knock on the door and when Mike opened it, Sophie and Hilda stood there. Peter froze, waiting for Sophie to shoot him angry glares, or to start yelling. Luckily, none of that happened.

“Oh good,” Mike said, upon seeing the girls. “Have you heard from Micky?”

“Well, sort of. We heard from Myrtle…They’re still two hours out.” Sophie seemed to stall, looking towards Peter. “Do you mind if we wait for them here with you?”

Mike let a huge breath of air out. “Thank God, I thought maybe something awful had happened. Sure you can wait here.” He stood back and let the girls come in, smiling a bit shyly at Hilda as she walked past.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room after Mike closed the door. “Er….I believe I am going for a walk on the beach. Would anyone care to join me?” Davy began walking towards the newly gleaming balcony doors.

“Oh, I have not been on the beach in a long vile. I vill go with you. Michael?” Hilda held her hand out to him and he grabbed at it.

“Yeah, I’ll come,” he said, and all three were out the door in the blink of an eye. Peter and Sophie were quite suddenly alone together. Silence filled the room before Sophie broke it.

“Our friends are very subtle, don’t you think?” She smiled a bit at him. He didn’t return the smile.

Sophie sighed miserably and sat down on the chair, her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. “I’m sorry I ran out last night before explaining myself, Peter. I shouldn’t have done that, it wasn’t fair.”

Peter sat down on the couch as she spoke, and nodded. “I’m sorry, too.”

She looked up at him. “What for? You didn’t do anything wrong….”

“I didn’t do anything right either,” Peter interjected. Sophie didn’t say anything, but looked away. They both sat silent for what seemed like a long while. Sophie broke the silence again, now sounding more resolved, as if she had been using the time to think up what to say.

“You have to understand that, before I came to live here, I was with someone else. I was with this person for a very long time, but, as you can imagine, it didn’t work out. Since then, I’ve been more….cautious about seriously dating people.” She ran out of steam here and sat for a moment starring at the floor, thinking.

“I like you, Peter. You have to know that. But maybe we’re too different, or maybe….something turns out wrong, I don’t know. I like being your friend, and, for the time being, I don’t want that to change.” She stopped there, and Peter glanced over at her. She was still looking down at the floor, her hair covering most of her face.

He sighed. “I guess….I don’t want that to change either.”

She looked up at him and nodded. She leaned forward with her hand outstretched. “Friends?”

Peter wiped his palms on the knees of his pants and shook her hand, a deal sealed. “Friends.” They sat in a more comfortable silence until Mike, Davy, and Hilda came back in from the beach.

****

Micky and Myrtle were running late, and this was worrying some of their friends. Mike was pacing back and forth pausing only to glance out the window. Sophie was bouncing her knee nervously, and occasionally telling Mike to calm down. Peter, Hilda, and Davy were casually enjoying a game of Scrabble at the table.

Suddenly Mike gasped. “They’re here! Quick, everyone act natural!” He threw himself down on the sofa and picked up a magazine, not realizing it was upside down. Davy rolled his eyes at this, and set down his last word. “Scruples. Twenty points.”

Hilda and Peter both looked down at the board in amazement. ‘Scruples,’ they mouthed at each other.

Just then, the door opened and Micky and Myrtle walked in, their arms wrapped around each other and laughing at something one or the other had said. Mike’s plans for acting naturally were forgotten as he and Sophie both shot up.

“Where have you been?”

“- worried out of our minds...”

“-you could’ve crashed,….”

“-lying dead in a ditch, waiting to be eaten by vultures….”

“-couldn’t have bothered to leave a note….”

Myrtle started flapping her hands. “Oh, be quiet, Mom!” This shut Sophie and Mike up, not knowing which of them she was referring to.

“Now, if you’d all like to sit down, Micky and I have something to tell you.” Myrtle shooed Sophie and Mike back to the couch and the others left the table to sit in the living room. Micky and Myrtle stood together in front of them all.

“Well, we took the car to Vegas….,” Micky tried to begin, but was instantly barraged by comments from Mike and Sophie.

Myrtle picked up a string of beads sitting on the table and shook it at them. “These are the Talking Beads! Only the person with the Talking Beads can talk.” She shook them some more, glaring at Sophie in particular, who leaned back on the couch, scowling but not saying anything.

Myrtle handed the beads to Micky. “Thank you. Now, we went to Vegas, and well, we….” He looked down at Myrtle, suddenly regretting his decision to be the one to tell their friends. “You do it.”

“We decided to elope.” There was a stunned silence, as everyone stared at the couple facing them. A moment passed. “Oh, someone say something already,” Myrtle begged.

Sophie spread her arms, as if asking ‘how can I?’. “Oh!,” Myrtle exclaimed and snatched the beads out of Micky’s hand and tossed them to Sophie.

Sophie got up and hugged her friend. “Congratulations, honey.” Myrtle let out a huge sigh.

“Oh, thank God! I was afraid you were going to be mad.”

Sophie lightly smacked her friend on the back. “Hell yeah, I’m mad! You up and disappeared on me…..You’re grounded for a month.”

The two girls laughed, but then Sophie caught a glimpse of Mike’s face out of the corner of her eye. He looked positively livid. She began to lead Myrtle towards the balcony, beckoning to Hilda to follow them. “Let’s celebrate out here. Let the guys have some….guy time.” Sophie shook her head and made a weird face, as if not enjoying exactly how lame her last statement was.

As soon as the girls were outside, Micky suddenly felt like he was in front of a firing squad. Mike and Davy were both glowering, and Peter, sitting between the two, had sunk down into the sofa as if trying to avoid the bad vibrations. Micky nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot, waiting for the first shot to be fired. It was from Mike.

“Is she pregnant?”

“No!” Micky shook his head, but then as an afterthought in a low undertone, “I hope not….”

“Is she moving in here with us or are you going in with her?” This one was from Davy.

“I don’t know, we haven’t really thought….”

“Yeah, Mick, that’s really obvious! What sort of idiot marries someone after only knowing them a month? You hardly know her, she could be some sort of….of fiend or criminal!” Mike began pacing.

Micky stared at the floor, for a while, collecting his thoughts. “Look, I know I can be a little girl-crazy from time to time….” The other three snorted. “Fine, fine, maybe that’s understating it, but this isn’t like that. Myrtle isn’t some chick that I really like, she’s a wonderful woman who I love. I didn’t want to let that go, so I made sure it wouldn’t. And if she hadn’t felt the same way, she wouldn’t have said yes. So….” He stalled, losing his steam. “Deal with it.”

Mike and Davy shared a look. “Micky, you know I like Myrtle, she’s swell, but say you both decide to get a place together. And then she does have a baby, and then you have to support a family of three….I get the same salary as you do, man, and I can barely support myself.”

Micky glared at Davy. “What’s your point?”

“You’d have to leave the group, get a real job and have a real life….”

“That’s what you’re worried about? You all know I’m not cut out for a real job; music is the only thing I’m really good at. As long as we’re still getting gigs, I’m still in the band. You know, as long as you’ll have me.”

Davy breathed a sigh of relief, his worries with the marriage dissipating, and he clapped Micky on the back. Mike still looked a bit peeved.

“Man, I hope this all works out for you….But, case it doesn’t….”

Micky interrupted. “It will.”

Mike smiled. “Well, if you’re so sure about it, I guess it’ll be alright.”

“It will,” Micky repeated himself, and then turned to Peter. “Hey, Big Peter, you’re being awfully quiet….”

“I’m glad for you, Micky.” Peter smiled weakly at his friend, not realizing how out of character his lack of enthusiasm was. Davy explained what had happened the night before in a whisper to Micky.

“Oh….Hey, don’t worry about it, babe, she’ll come around.” Peter nodded a bit and then looked out the balcony window for what he thought must have been the millionth time. The sun was setting, streaking the sky orange and red. The three girls were watching it, but then just as Peter had looked out the window, Sophie turned her head and looked back at him. Her expression was unreadable for a moment, but then she smiled at him and waved.

Peter sighed and looked back to his friends. “I certainly hope so.”


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very mild violence.

Chapter Eight; In Which Paul Is Chased By Fan Girls, George Is Mystically Disgruntled, Ringo Is Lovingly Cute, And John Is…..Damn, Sorry, Wrong Fanverse

Christmas and the two weeks following it flew past. Christmas was spent at the Monkees’ house, a small, but joyful evening with Myrtle and Hilda coming over. Sophie worked at the club that night, but she popped in to the small party after she got off, collapsing onto the couch and throwing evil glances at the radio playing Christmas music.

The Monkees had landed a gig on the thirtieth, Mike and Davy’s birthday, so they decided to celebrate their birthdays and New Year’s on the same evening. Sophie baked a huge cake, one half chocolate and one half vanilla. They all sat out on the balcony together and watched the fireworks at midnight while eating their cake.

Peter and Sophie had begun to not act awkwardly when they were near each other, much to their friend’s relief. There were a few isolated incidents, of course, but for the most part everything was going okay for them.

Micky and Myrtle were adjusting to married life amazingly well. Then again, they didn’t live together. The only time they really felt like they were married were the nights that Micky spent over at the girls’ apartment; when Hilda was out and Sophie was at the club.

Mike and Hilda had slowly began to do things together, although they never went out on dates. No, they spent most of their time together at the apartment, watching TV or playing games. It was an odd relationship, but they enjoyed it.

Davy, despite his friend’s doubts, was keeping up his vow for no more girls. He hadn’t flirted or asked out anyone for almost a month. He thought he may be going crazy. He had begun many projects to keep his mind off of it though, and the result was that there were several half finished puzzles lying about the house.

Peter was out for a walk one evening in the middle of January. Normally, he didn’t go out on random walk-abouts, but it was too noisy back home, and he needed to think. For one thing, he was beginning to be worried about his health. Peter had been falling asleep earlier and earlier at night, and was becoming more and more difficult to wake up in the morning. He was positive that if his bandmates would let him sleep, he wouldn’t wake up until after lunch, if at all.

And he was never hungry any more, hardly eating breakfast or lunch, and only eating a little more than half of supper. Peter knew that his friends were starting to worry about him, Michael in particular.

Peter had decided that if he was having problems waking up, it was best not to go to sleep at all. The secondary reason he had gone out on the walk was to buy some extra coffee. Peter was almost to the store when he got sidetracked.

He walked past the club where Sophie worked and slowed down. It was Wednesday night, so she should have been in….Peter thought why shouldn’t he poke in and see her? He walked into the club and headed up to the second floor.

This would mark the second time Peter had been to the club to see Sophie, and she had finally gotten around to seeing one of their gigs the week before.

The room was in full swing when Peter walked in, a crowd of people already dancing wildly to the fast-paced music emanating from the platform. He squinted up at the platform, where he saw Sophie. She was wearing a pair of sunglasses, despite that the room was just barely lit by a few blue lights placed here and there.

Peter sat down at one of the tables, watching the other dancers and waiting for Sophie’s round to be finished. He thought he would pop in to the make-shift backstage area and say hi. She made it through another song, and then introduced Old John. Peter began to fight his way back.

He found Sophie leaning back in a chair, her hands over her face. “Sophie,” he called before coming all the way in the room. It was a simple sort of room, with some chairs and a table sitting out.

Sophie looked up. “Oh! Hey, Pete. What’re you doing here?”

He shrugged and walked in. “I was just walking past. I was out for coffee….”

She nodded and leaned her head back again. “You’ll forgive me, I haven’t been sleeping very well lately.” Peter realized then why she had the glasses on; she had dark circles running under her eyes.

Peter sat down across from her. “You too, huh?”

Sophie looked up again. “You aren’t sleeping either?”

“No, I’m sleeping too much.” She looked at him strangely and sat up.

“Weird….Is that what the coffee was for?” He nodded.

“Yeah. I think that if I don’t sleep at all I won’t over do it.”

She shrugged. “Sounds good to me. Do you want to hang around? No way you can fall asleep here.” Sophie motioned to the platform, where Old John and his band were blasting out an old blues song.

He thought about it. “How about this, I hang around here and stay up and you go home and sleep.”

She laughed. “Nice try, Pete, but that won’t fly with Mack. I’m his ‘star’ around here and if I left he’d kill me. But thank you.” She smiled at him, and then leaned her head back again.

They sat in silence for a long while, until Old John finished his set. Sophie got up and was about to walk out before she turned back to Peter. “So, are you staying or is this goodbye?”

“I’m staying.”

“Cool. I’ll see you in a few then.”

Old John and his band came back to the sitting area. They were a three piece band, and despite calling themselves old, they were all in their twenties. Old John shook Peter’s hand.

“You must be Peter….I think Sophie’s mentioned you a few times.” The drummer snorted from where he had sat on the other side of the table.

“A few times my foot.” Peter felt himself start to turn red.

Old John and his band used their break time to play a game of poker, and invited Peter to join them. They also commented on whatever Sophie was playing out on the platform. She ran through a bunch of rock n roll songs, done over so they had a blues sound to them.

“That girl has a real talent….It’s a pity she won’t ever move on from here.” Old John set down a straight and pulled in the bottle tops they were using as chips.

“What do you mean?” Peter asked.

“Sophie’s the sort of person who gets attached to a place. She likes it here, so she won’t leave. She’s had offers to go to other clubs, the sort of offers we would cut off our right hands for. She turned them all down….”

“That’s right.”

Everyone jumped; they hadn’t noticed the music stop. “Stupid corporation goody-goodies. You know me better than that, John.” Sophie came over and sat in the one other free chair. She nodded outside. “You’d better get out there….”

There was a big scramble and Peter found himself alone with Sophie again. She peeked at the cards. “Oh, Fred almost had a flush. That’s a pity….” She gathered all the cards up and shuffled them.

“It’s nice having you here, Pete. Usually I get so lonely back here by myself.” She smiled at him, obviously in a more energetic mood than she was earlier. Peter didn’t really know what to say, rather he smiled back at her in what he was sure was a goofy sort of way.

Most unfortunately, another visitor popped in just then. The room they were in wasn’t in any way hidden from the rest of the club, so Sophie was used to people poking in, either lost or wanting to request one song or another. It was unfortunate, though, because Sophie knew this visitor.

“J-James!” She stood up nervously as he entered the room. James was tall, taller than most people, and although he was very lanky looking, he also looked strong, like someone who worked out regularly.

He nodded. “Hello Louie.”

Sophie still looked nervous, although he was a full room away. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in town, and I talked to Niles. He mentioned you might be here. I thought I could come and say hi for old times sake. Is that a problem?” From the way Sophie was wringing her hands, it obviously was a problem, but she didn’t say anything. Peter looked back and forth between the two, getting the feeling that he didn’t care much for this James person.

James glanced at Peter. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

Sophie looked at Peter in surprise, her eyes bugging as if she had forgotten he was in the room. “What? No! No, this is just Peter, he was on his way out. Not a friend, not a anything….” She began making shooing motions out back to the club, a pleading look in her eyes.

“Uh, sure….I’m on my way out….” Peter got up and walked out of the room, stopping behind the curtain that made for a make-shift door. He pulled it open just far enough to see inside. Because of the noise of the music and the club behind him, he couldn’t hear anything they were saying, but it was obvious they were having a fairly heated discussion.

Several moments went past, and Sophie was saying something. She made the mistake of turning her back to James. Although he was back away from her, he crossed the room quickly and grabbed her by her arms from behind and he began to shake her. Sophie tried to fight away, but he was a lot stronger that she was. Peter took this as his cue to reenter the room.

Peter could never remember the details of the fight that followed, being too caught up in the moment, but the result was that he and James both ended up crumpled on the floor, bruised and bleeding in various places. James got up first.

“Fine!” He exploded. “I’m leaving, Louie. When ever you want to come back home, you’ll know how to find me.” And James left, hopefully to never be seen again.

Sophie knelt next to Peter, who wasn’t quite sure about getting up yet. “Are you okay?” She asked pityingly.

Peter picked his head up and, with Sophie’s help, sat up part of the way. “Yeah, I think so.”

Sophie shook her head. “When I get a hold of Niles, I’m going to kill him….” She turned around so she was facing Peter. She touched his face, making him flinch slightly. She winced.

“Sorry….Well, you don’t look too bad.” She gently touched the area just under his left eye. “I’ll get you some ice….” Sophie stood up. “Now don’t go anywhere.” Peter laughed, still not thinking he could even stand up. Sophie left the room.

While Sophie was gone, Peter reflected on what had just happened. James must have been the guy she was with before she left the village. He obviously wasn’t a very nice person, and Peter couldn’t blame Sophie for being more cautious about dating people. Although, since he had rushed in and rescued her, maybe Sophie would be more likely to go out with him now.

By the time Sophie came back, Peter was feeling a bit better about sitting up, and had moved over to the table. She knelt in front of him and set the ice on his cheekbone, where a very colorful bruise was beginning to show. He reached up and put his hand over hers on the bag to hold it in place. “You got it?”

He nodded and she pulled her hand away, standing up and pulling up a chair next to him. “I am so sorry this happened, Peter.” Sophie chuckled sadly. “I’m afraid I’ve become a hindrance.”

Peter shook his head and worked his jaw a bit. Talking wasn’t going to hurt he decided, but he made a mental note not to yawn any time soon. “This wasn’t your fault….I don’t think you’re a hindrance.”

Sophie smiled at him a bit miserably and looked like she was about to say something, but just then Old John and his band returned from off the platform.

“Hey, Sophie you’re up….Whoa, what happened to you?”

Sophie answered for Peter. “James showed up,” she said as she reached for her guitar. “Pete, you don’t mind if I….”

“No, no….I’ll still be here when you get back,” Peter assured her. She laughed a bit and walked off backwards.

“John, keep a good eye on him,” she pointed and glared a bit before she reached the platform.

Fred dealt the cards and the guys played a few more rounds of poker while they were on break. Peter begged off on this one, preferring to listen to Sophie’s voice filtering through the room as he watched the card game before him.

Not soon enough, Sophie was finished and came back for the final time. She told Old John and the others goodnight as they walked off, and packed her stuff up. “Do you feel up to walking home, Pete?”

“Yeah, I think so….” Peter had discovered that at some point he had hit the floor rather awkwardly with his knee, so walking was somewhat painful, but he thought he could make it home.

They made it nearly half way there before Peter knew he had to sit down. Sophie cut a detour into a small park where benches lined the walkway. “Maybe you should see a doctor,” Sophie suggested as they sat.

Peter shook his head. “No, doctors cost money, and I don’t have any.”

Sophie nodded and looked at the ground. They sat in silence, waiting for Peter to feel ready to walk some more.

“Why’d he call you Louie?”

Sophie shrugged a bit. “That’s my middle name, or Louise rather. James always thought that ‘Sophie’ was too old fashioned and proper for me, so he renamed me. That was always his name for me, but then Niles started calling me that, and it just snowballed amongst friends. I didn’t go by ‘Sophie’ again until Myrtle and I left.”

“You left because of James?”

Sophie nodded. “Yeah.”

Peter sat and studied his feet for a moment. “Did he ever do anything like this to you?”

Sophie looked back at him, all emotion draining from her face for a moment. She looked blank, and then she looked away to answer. “A few times, yeah.”

“I wish that I’d hit him harder,” Peter said determinedly. Sophie looked up at him sharply, looking surprised for a moment before smiling.

“Thank you, Peter.”

It wasn’t too much longer until they were able to continue on, this time making it all the way home. This time, Sophie walked Peter up to his door. The both stood there awkwardly for a few moments, each remembering vividly what had happened last time.

Peter had decided that since he had rushed in and rescued her, the least Sophie could do for him would be to let him kiss her. He took a deep breath and moved in; most unfortunately, Sophie hadn’t been paying any attention and had quite abruptly looked away to the side. Peter was already to close to move away or to course correct to pretend like he was doing something else. As a result he ended up kissing her ear.

They both froze. Peter had bypassed embarrassed and had moved on to paralyzed by humiliation. Sophie was concentrating very hard on not laughing, knowing how embarrassed Peter must be. A long moment passed before Peter got up the courage to move away.

Sophie was still trying not to laugh. Peter shook his head. “I’m sorry…..I am such a dummy.”

“I don’t think you’re a dummy.”

Peter looked over at her. “You don’t?”

“Of course not. I think that you have a very untainted view of the world, and to some people that might seem naive or dumb. Personally, that’s one of the things I like the most about you.”

Peter felt his face heat up, but pleasantly so. Sophie smiled at him and kissed him on his cheek (the one that wasn’t bruised), told him goodnight and then she went home. For the first time in nearly a month, Peter felt honestly happy.

It wouldn’t last.

****

The next morning Peter woke up at a decent hour for a change, blinking awake to the sounds of Michael getting ready in the bathroom, whistling while he dried his hair. He looked a bit surprised to see Peter up. “Hey, buddy, it’s nice seeing you for a change before noon….” He paused as he noticed Peter’s face.

“Whoa, man, what happened to you?”

Peter had been practicing his excuse in his head. “I ran into a door.”

“With your face?” Mike sounded dubious.

Peter nodded. “Yep. Smack into the door.”

Mike sighed and shrugged a bit, silently saying ‘I know you’re lying, but I’ll buy it for now because you’ll tell me the truth when you’re ready’. Mike didn’t know he was this easy to read, but his bandmates had long since learned the difficult language of Nesmith.

Peter got out of bed, realizing quite suddenly that yes, his knee still hurt, and he got ready for the day. When he went downstairs, Davy was busy cooking breakfast. Still on his no-dating pledge, he had decided to improve his culinary skills. The results were not yet spectacular.

Mike had obviously forewarned the others as to how Peter looked because as he sat down neither Micky nor Davy said a word. Highly uncharacteristic behaviors, Peter thought.

The day went past quickly and smoothly. After breakfast, Peter and Micky washed the dishes while Davy and Mike set up the equipment on the platform in the living room so that they could practice for an audition they had that afternoon. They practiced for a while, then packed up and went out for the audition. It was for a band to play at a retirement party being thrown for an elderly woman. The Monkees had felt certain that the polka band would win the gig, but it had actually come their way this time. They decided to go for a celebratory lunch at the little Italian restaurant they knew near the pad.

The rest of the afternoon went by quietly, only to be interrupted by Hilda, who blustered into the apartment full of nervous excitement followed by Myrtle who looked perplexed.

“Oh, I have ze best news,” she exclaimed, pacing about.

“What?” All five of the others asked simultaneously.

“Oh, ve must vait on Zophie. She should be here soon…..”

“Where is Sophie?” Peter asked, knowing she was usually home on Saturdays.

“The manager of the club where she works called and asked her to come down for a meeting. Apparently he has some news for her,” Myrtle said, sitting next to Micky on the couch. Peter thought that Sophie must have told Myrtle about what had happened the night before, because she didn’t ask about what happened to him.

Several moments went by, Hilda not getting any less flustered. Finally, Sophie knocked on the door and came in, waving a note. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Oh, I have ze best news! I vould like to share it vith all of you…sit, sit!” She waved Sophie towards a chair.

“Today, I had an interview with Herbert Zigler….”

“The record producer?” Davy asked, wide-eyed.

“That’s ze one! And I thought I vas just going to be a receptionist, but zen, Mr. Zigler told me he vanted me to be his personal assistant! I said yes, and he gave me hiring bonus! So I am taking everyvun out for supper!” As Hilda got more and more excited, her accent got thicker, but the others got the gist of ‘hiring bonus’ and ‘supper’. They all cheered for her, Mike getting up and hugging her.

Everyone began to make their way to the door to go out, but Myrtle stopped Sophie. “Hey, what did Mack have to say?”

Sophie shook her head. “Nothing important. Let’s go….”

“He didn’t fire you did he?” That got everyone’s attention.

“Why would he? No, it wasn’t that. Let’s go….”

Myrtle could tell something was wrong. “Then what did he say?”

Sophie stopped with her hand on the doorknob and sighed. “Fine. If you must know, he wanted me to come and meet this man who was in the club the other night. He liked me and just happens to be a record producer and he wanted me to sign with his label.”

There was a moment of silence before everyone started congratulating Sophie at the same time. Myrtle waved them quiet. “But that’s good?”

Sophie looked down at the floor for a few seconds. “It’s in Chicago.” Everyone went quiet.

“So you aren’t going to sign,” Myrtle asked hopefully.

Sophie looked back up, her face blank. “I’m going on Wednesday to check out the studio, then I’ll decide whether I want to stay or not.”

Myrtle looked like Sophie had slapped her, never entertaining the notion that her friend would one day move on. Mike cautiously looked over at Peter. He looked completely heartbroken, tears welling up in his eyes. Sophie briefly looked Peter’s way, too, but winced and turned back to the door, this time opening it. “You guys go out and celebrate. I don’t think I’m in the mood any more.” She slammed the door behind her, just as Peter collapsed on the couch, once again feeling as if the house was coming down around him.


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine; In Which Conversations Are Held With The Grieving Parties For Various Lengths, And The Author Gets Her Chapter Title Groove Back.

That Saturday afternoon, Peter went to bed and didn’t move until Tuesday afternoon. He didn’t eat or sleep, and he barely moved, just lying his side and staring at the wall. His friends did everything they could to get Peter up, but nothing worked. They even attempted to get Sophie to come over to talk to him, but Myrtle reported that she had disappeared on Saturday.

“Oh, don’t worry….She used to disappear all the time. She’d get really upset over something and go away for a few days, usually coming back smelling like she had swam in a liquor still,” Myrtle explained.

Peter only got up Tuesday afternoon because he had made a decision. After the initial shock of having his heart broken again, by the same person no less, Peter had spent his time in bed thinking. He came to the conclusion that he loved Sophie very much. He realized that if he didn’t love her, her leaving would not affect him this badly. He also realized that he could not ask Sophie to stay.

By and large, Peter was a very unselfish person, never wanting to put himself first. In this instance, he knew that asking Sophie to stay would require her to give up a recording contract (something all musicians strived for) and he simply wouldn’t do that. However, if she wanted to do that he wouldn’t argue with her staying.

Having reached all these conclusions, Peter decided to pull himself out of bed, took a shower, and went downstairs for lunch.

****

Of course, Peter hadn’t been the only one thinking. Myrtle and Hilda had ganged up with the other three Monkees and over the past couple of days they had come up with a fool-proof plan to keep Sophie at home.

As Tuesday evening came around, Peter found himself inexplicably deserted. All at the same time, his bandmates had made excuses to go out. Davy claimed to need to do a load of laundry, but left without any clothes. Micky said he needed to pick his sister up at the train station, but left with out the car, the nearest train station at least ten miles away. And Mike said he was going grocery shopping, although he had been to the store the day before.

Peter didn’t ask any questions, actually preferring to be by himself at the moment, so he was surprised by a knock at the door and he opened it to see Myrtle and Hilda there. Myrtle had a friendly sort of smile on her face and Hilda was scowling.

He let them in, mentioning that Michael and Micky were out. “That’s okay, Peter. We’re here to talk to you,” Myrtle and Hilda had pulled chairs up so they were sitting right in front of the couch. Myrtle motioned for Peter to sit on the couch.

“What do you need to talk with me for?” He asked while sitting down. Myrtle didn’t answer immediately; instead she opened a Christmas tin Peter didn’t realize that she had been holding. “Cookie?”

“Sure. Thank you.” Oatmeal, conveniently Peter’s favorite.

“Hilda made them,” Myrtle said friendly, as Hilda continued to glare in such a way that made Peter want to check and see if the cookies might be poisoned.

“Now, Peter, the reason we wanted to come and talk with you was because of Sophie….” Peter had been afraid of that.

“What about her?”

“Well, she doesn’t always know what’s best for herself, and we were worried that she may have made the wrong decision here.”

“I thought she wasn’t going to decide until she got back from Chicago.”

Myrtle nodded sadly. “That’s what she said, but I think she’s already made up her mind. However, if someone were to ask her to stay….” She looked at Peter pointedly.

“Me? I can’t do that! This is a big break for her….”

“You know Sophie, she doesn’t believe in big breaks or anything like that! Hell, she’ll probably go up to Chicago, not sign and just decide to move there; that’s the sort of thing she does. She hangs around a place until something bad happens and then she moves. She blames herself for you getting beat up so she’ll run and hide in Chicago. That’s simply what she does.”

“What? But that wasn’t her fault….”

“I know it wasn’t. I am just explaining how Sophie is feeling. I tried to ask her to stay, but she told me that I was a married woman now and I didn’t need her. Hilda tried, but she said that now Hilda has a good-paying job, we didn’t need three people at the house anymore. You are the last person who might need her to stay here, so you have to ask her.” Myrtle and Hilda both looked at him pointingly, daring him to argue with them. Peter was reminded of a time when he was at school and he had stuck some gum in this girl’s hair. His principal and his mother had both ganged up on him in the office, both looking the same way at him.

“I-I’ll try,” Peter promised, knowing it would be useless. There was no way she would pass up Chicago for him.

The girls stood up, Hilda glaring a little extra harder. “You’d better,” she said, the only words she spoke during the whole trial, and then they left.

****

Meanwhile, the other three Monkees had walked to club Sophie worked at. Myrtle had assured them that even though Sophie had probably gone out on a three day drinking binge, she would most certainly still show up at work on Tuesday evening.

Sure enough, as they walking in through the second floor door, there she was, standing slightly unsteadily on the platform, but still playing as well as ever.

“Alright, men, everyone remembers the plan?” Mike asked and the other nodded. They began to make their way back the little side room just as Sophie introduced Old John, slurring somewhat. When they made it back there, it was to find Sophie stretched out on three chairs she had lined up and was now lying on. She looked up when she heard them and groaned.

“Please don’t make me get up,” she pleaded, obviously still hung-over.

“We won’t,” Mike assured her. “We just came by to ask you….”

“To ask me if I’d be willing to stay? Myrtle set you guys up to this, didn’t she?” Sophie asked, draping her arm over her eyes. “The answer is no. I wish I could stay, but I really don’t think I can.”

“Why not,” all three asked at the same time.

Sophie chuckled. “Can you guys give me a reason to stay?”

Again, they all three answered at the same time. “Peter.”

Sophie thought for a moment. “Can you prove he really wants me to stay? I’ve caused him a lot of pain….” She paused, her throat working as if fighting off tears. “He probably hates me.”

“Sophie, you need to get a hold on yourself. Peter doesn’t hate you; he’s spent the past three days holed up on his bed, miserable that you’re leaving. If he hated you, he’d be happy.”

Sophie moved her arm and glared slightly at Mike. “Now, look here Nesmith….I’m not going to be bullied that way into staying. Has anyone considered that I might want to go?”

“So you want to leave? You have no problems at all  
leaving Myrtle behind, even though you’ve lived with her for almost ten years?”

“Myrtle’s a big girl, she can take care of herself. Besides, our lives don’t have to revolve around each others anymore; she’s married now.” Davy and Mike glared at Micky slightly, who jumped guiltily. And then Mike turned back to Sophie.

“And then what about Peter? Have you just been leading him on, making him think you like him….” Sophie glared at Mike again, although this time he actually backed off; something in her eyes told him he had gone too far.

“I like Peter very much,” she said, her voice catching slightly. “But I’m still going, and the only way you are making me stay is by tying me to a tree.”

The three Monkees shared a look that Sophie caught. “You wouldn’t dare….”

Had Old John not finished his set right then, Sophie may have well found herself on a tree.

****

The girls and the Monkees met up that evening at the girl’s apartment to discuss the meetings that they had had.

“Sophie is still pretty adamant about going,” Davy said, sitting on the couch. “Is Peter going to ask her?”

Myrtle shrugged. “He may. I think he’ll try, I just hope he tries hard enough to convince her….”

“So, Sophie’s staying is depending on Peter’s ability to give a good argument?” Micky asked. Mike sighed and looked out the window.

“She ain’t never coming back.”


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last full chapter, to be followed by a short epilogue/tie-in for the next story, I've Just Begun To Care.

Chapter Ten; In Which One Door Is Closed, But Many More Are Opened, And Sophie Says Good-Bye (But Perhaps Not To Who You Think)

Wednesday morning dawned grey and cold. It didn’t quite look like it was going to rain, but it did look pretty miserable out, which fit perfectly with Peter’s mood when he woke up. He looked at the clock. Nine a.m; four hours until Sophie’s plane was supposed to leave. Peter groaned, but pushed himself up out of bed anyway and got ready.

There was a very somber mood in the apartment throughout the day. Peter moved about listlessly, not able to concentrate on one thing long enough to complete it and not able to sit still for longer than a few minutes. The other three watched their friend sadly, his depressed mood seeping through the rooms like a fog.

At fifteen after twelve, Myrtle and Hilda both came over, looking as if they had been crying for most of the morning. “I just called for a cab. It should be here soon,” Myrtle said thickly, sounding like she had a cold. She nodded out the balcony door. “Sophie’s out on the beach. Peter, do you mind going and getting her?”

Everyone turned to look at Peter. He felt like simply sitting in the floor and saying no. He didn’t really feel like asking Sophie to stay because he knew she would say no. He didn’t know if he could handle that right now. But everyone was staring at him, and he knew they wanted him to at least try. He sighed and walked towards the door.

Sophie was very easy to find, seeing as the beach was practically deserted. She sat in the sand, staring off at the ocean but not really seeing it. Peter sat next to her. She looked over.

“Hey, Pete.”

“Hi. Myrtle said a cab was going to be here soon.”

She sighed. “Yeah. I guess I’d better go in and say goodbye.” She looked at Peter, opening her mouth to say something else, but Peter interrupted her.

“I don’t want you to go.”

Sophie’s face went blank. “I have to.”

“Why?”

Sophie shook her head. “I’ve done nothing but cause you misery since I got here, and I’m not going to keep doing it.”

“That deal with James wasn’t your fault….”

“If I hadn’t been here, he wouldn’t have shown up! And James isn’t the sort of person who gives up; he’ll be back, and when he does I won’t be here.” She turned a bit so she was facing Peter. She reached up and touched the side of his face, gently running her thumb over the fading bruise beneath his eye.

“It broke my heart to see you hurt, and if I can do something to prevent that….”

Peter took her hand in his. “You don’t think you’re hurting me now?”

Sophie looked away, not saying anything. Peter let go of her hand and she hugged her knees tight to her chest.

Peter thought for a moment about what to say next. “You know….a bruise can heal, but if you left….” He paused, thinking some more. “There’s no coming back from that.”

Sophie had been looking away from him, and so it wasn’t until he heard her sniff quietly that he realized she was crying. Peter reached out gently and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She let her head fall back on his chest and they sat like that for awhile, watching the waves roll in and out together.

Peter took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he knew he had to say. “Sophie, I know that you leaving wouldn’t hurt as much if….if I didn’t love you.” He felt her freeze against him. “But if you really want to go, tell me and I won’t say another word about it….” He had meant to say ‘except goodbye’, but the words stuck in his throat.

Sophie tensed up slightly. “I love you too, Pete.” Peter felt a warmth spread through his body, feeling a twinge of hope.

“You’ll stay, then?”

Sophie moved away from Peter far enough so she could see him. “Yes, I’ll stay,” she said beginning to smile. Peter breathed a huge sigh of relief and Sophie laughed. Peter began to lean forward to kiss her, but Myrtle walked up just then.

“Hey, Sophie, the cabs’ here.”

Sophie reached into a pocket and pulled out an airline ticket. “Here. Tell him free trip to Chicago on me and bon voyage.”

Myrtle looked confused between the ticket and Sophie and then gasped. “You’re staying?”

Sophie nodded happily. Myrtle clapped. “Oh, thank you,” she said hugging Peter around the neck, and then moving on to Sophie. “Thank you, thank you! I’m going to tell the others!” Myrtle rushed off towards the apartment.

This time, Peter leaned forward and kissed Sophie before anyone else could come interrupting them. This time, it worked; no friends coming in at the last minute or really bad aim. It felt like a first kiss; completely blissful.

They stayed there on the beach for what seemed like a long, long while, but when they pulled away from each other they could just hear the sounds of their friends celebrating from the apartment behind them.

Sophie smiled at Peter. “What do you say we get away from them for a little while?”

He thought about it. “If you’re up for a walk, there’s something up the beach that way….” He nodded towards the cave.

They stood up and moved off together down the beach, their arms tight around each other, both feeling completely at peace.

This time, they both knew it was going to last.


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow Up story- I've Just Begun To Care.

Epilogue; In Which It Looks Like We Made It To The End. But A Word Of Caution; Not All Is As It Seems….

Sophie walked nervously around the small room, wondering why she hadn’t eaten anything when she had the chance. Her stomach was tossing and turning, not being helped that she kept checking her watch only to see half a minute had passed.

Occasionally she cracked the door a bit to spy on the others in the much larger chapel room. Well, technically, it was a barn that the elderly couple had remodeled into a small chapel so they could conduct ceremonies. Sophie peeked in from time to time, seeing how much sooner the old man would be ready to start, and also to make sure Peter hadn’t run out on her at the last minute.

He was pacing nervously, either fidgeting with his tie, his sleeves or anything else he could get his hands on. Mike was flapping back and forth, alternately telling Peter to stop pacing and telling Micky and Davy to act more serious.

Micky and Davy were at the piano, making up some atrocious sounding songs and pounding on the keyboard. The elderly woman, Myrtle, Hilda, and Annie (a friend of Sophie’s who Davy was trying to pursue unsuccessfully) were sitting in chairs and laughing at the boys.

Sophie walked away from the door and paced for a few more minutes, thinking. Her and Peter’s relationship hadn’t been easy so far. Oh, it had had it’s high points; the evenings spent in each other’s arms on the beach, the week-long road trip they had taken together, nights of going out dancing. But there had been low points, too….things with Mike were still tense, but Sophie knew it would all work out.

She and Peter had been together now nearly two years. Sometimes Sophie was amazed that Peter had stuck with her for that long. She knew he loved her, but still, he had put up with a lot of crap from her, most of it very recently. She moved to peek out the door, but it opened quite suddenly and Peter slipped in, closing the door quickly behind him.

“Hey, what are you doing back here?”

Peter shrugged a bit. “I just wanted to see you. I asked Davy to distract Michael so I could slip back here.”

Sophie sighed. “I wanted to see you, too.”

Peter fidgeted a little. “You aren’t having second thoughts are you?”

“No, of course not. It’s just….this all happened so suddenly, I’m still getting accustomed to it.” She smiled and moved towards him, reaching out and putting her hands on his shoulders. He moved closer, too, wrapping his arms around her waist. Because they were the same height, they stood with their foreheads together, their lips close, but not kissing.

They stood that way for a while, sounds of Micky clowning around still barely audible. Peter broke the silence. “I missed you.”

Sophie chuckled. “We’ve only been out of the car for twenty minutes, Pete.”

Peter moved his head away from hers and smiled. “I know….but I’ve still missed you.” He leaned forward slightly and kissed her.

“I love you, Sophie.”

“I love you, too.” They moved to kiss again, but then the door swung open and Mike popped in. Sophie could feel Peter tense up slightly.

“Hey, man, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! We’re ready to get started.” Peter glanced at Sophie, paling slightly, and grabbed her hand as they walked out of the small room.

Walking down the aisle together, they both knew that it was so soon, so fast, but that neither was unsure about it. Sophie knew that Peter would always be there for her, a presence that she could no longer bear to think of living with out. Peter knew that Sophie would always stand by him, never letting him down or giving up on him. The last few weeks seemed to have been a trial, leaving neither of them unsure of one fact; they loved each other, and that was all that really mattered.

They were ready to begin their lives together.

The End


End file.
